Passions and Ambitions
by homicidalmommy
Summary: Lucretia Gallus and Quintus Lentulus Batiatus first see each other across sands of blood and death. What happens next sets in motion tumultuous, passionate lives full of conspiracy, tragedy and true love. R&R, s'il vous plait!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"Oh, this heat will be the death of me! It scorches the very skin from my flesh!"

Shit. To hear Gratiana's lamentations, one would assume she strolled on the surface of the sun itself instead of the dusty, bustling streets of Capua. Midday approached and the market became a ravenous beast, hungry for coin. Storekeepers loudly enticed customers to sample their wares, exhausted whores cursed as they expelled the last men of the previous night onto the streets and women vigorously shook the dirt from rugs out of their windows. The air smelled of piss, sweat, shit, perfumes, meat and fruit. While her mother could barely stand the ruckus, Lucretia relished it. Fifteen years parted from her place of birth was an anguished eternity of silence among ghosts. No parties, no excitement and most importantly, no Gaia. Life in the outskirts of Tarracina was a prison and Lucretia had finally escaped to the city she loved.

"We are nearing the villa, Mother. You will be free of the sun in a moment. Please be silent." Lucretia pleaded for her sanity as they turned into a hidden side alley stifled with people and animals. The narrow passage snaked between two large buildings, and then opened to a wide street which led to their home in the heart of Capua. Lucretia's grandfather purchased the unwanted plot of land, at the time decrepit and rife with criminal activity, and built two adjoining villas that flanked a circle adorned with a fountain, a tribute to Minerva.

Gratiana scoffed bitterly, fanning herself with the hem of her plain brown stola. Rufus, their guard, attempted to cover both ladies with the single umbrella with little success. "That I should suffer in silence would please you? I do not know by what means you convinced your father to maintain his villa in Capua when our family was perfectly settled in Tarracina but I am not required to rejoice in the change."

Again with veiled accusations. Gratiana's own father abandoned her mother before she was born, so she could not comprehend Egnatius' closeness to his daughter. Lucretia's batting eyelashes prevented him from granting his wife's wish to sell their Capuan home and complete their relocation to Tarracina. Gratiana wielded no power in her household in front of her daughter's fierce stubbornness. "Once we arrive, Mother, you will be able to sequester yourself, as you always have, within the confines of the villa. Ah, here we are." Lucretia knocked at the unadorned gates; she dispatched three of her slaves to prepare the dormant villa for their arrival.

"Domina." Melitta bowed her head before Lucretia and smiled with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You have a most expectant visitor."

Lucretia smiled back and touched Melitta's shoulder with affection; the girl was given to her at a young age by her father after his return from a successful journey. Despite their limited means, Lucretia afforded a body slave to herself. Another fact her mother resented. "Now? The only person given notice... Gaia!"

Lucretia tightly embraced her childhood friend, who squealed with delight and kissed her passionately on the mouth. Lucretia instantly noted the drabness of her own ivory gown covered in dirt compared to the deep green gown decorated with gold thread Gaia draped over her beautiful form.

"I received news of your arrival and hastened to your villa. I told Melitta I could wait in this dusty old room for days but to be the first to witness my dearest friend's glorious return to Capua!" Gaia turned to Gratiana with a generous smile; the older woman nodded curtly and walked straight to the bath, followed by her slave Vesta. "You seem so… faded, Lucretia. Tarracina does not suit you." Seeing her friend's face fall, Gaia quickly added: "And yet you remain the most beautiful woman in the Republic."

Lucretia clutched Gaia's hand and led her into the main hall. "I come to Capua to lift my spirits by your buoyant presence and considerable charm." She said with a wink.

Melitta brought wine aged in the stores; Gaia greedily drank the cup in two sips. "I have acquired... other means of lifting dowdy clouds."

"Bring water as well." Lucretia turned to her friend while Melitta refilled Gaia's cup and rushed to fulfill her Domina's needs. "How do you accomplish this with your depleted funds? I recall your letters mentioned the many debts left by your grandfather after his passing."

Gaia leaned back on the chaise and stretched seductively. "A suitor of means, of course." Lucretia giggled, already so enthralled to be home. "He brings me..." Gaia hastened to her friend's side and leaned into her ear; Gratiana tended to eavesdrop in their conversations. "Opium. Paired with Falonian wine of the highest quality."

The mention of opium brought a blush to Lucretia's cheeks as memories of intoxicated intimacies from their girlhood flooded her mind. "Opium and wine? Then he must truly love you. Who is this potential husband?" Melitta brought water to her Domina and began to wipe the dust and sweat from travel off Lucretia's skin. The animation on Lucretia's face lifted Melitta's heart; Domina came alive when she visited Capua and trusted friend; she was in a cruel dark mood in Tarracina. Melitta was glad to be through with such a stifled and uneventful existence.

"Horatius Marianus Avitus. He was Aedile once."

Lucretia's eyes widened. "Many years ago! Fuck, the man is a walking corpse by now." The name was familiar; as Aedile, Horatius issued her father a loan to begin the trade of fish, which eventually saw them moved to the shores of Tarracina.

"Even older men have needs to be serviced. And he is a distinguished older gentleman who has kept quite healthy despite his age and favors youthful indulgences." Gaia finished her third cup of wine and snapped her fingers. Her slave emerged with a package. "To which I must insist you accompany me to the games this afternoon."

"Games? My body aches from travel and you would drag me to the arena? I may pitch forward from exhaustion and find myself trampled by the gladiators!" Lucretia knew her argument was futile; Gaia could ask her to kill and she would do so. Gaia was a loyal friend even in most trying times.

"I beg you, Lucretia. I cannot go forth with this match without your approval and Horatius presses for answer." Gaia pleaded, then placed the package in Lucretia's lap. "For me?"

Lucretia smiled as she unwrapped the gift. "I cannot refuse you, Gaia, especially when you are laden with gifts." Under the simple white cloth flashed dark red silk, sumptuous to the touch, embroidered in gold and cream-colored thread. She ran her fingers over the delicate glass beads. "Gaia… this gown is…"

Gaia kissed Lucretia on the lips to silence her and put Lucretia's hand to her heart. "Hardly worthy of a woman who's beauty would put Venus to shame. You tend to forget your worth. Lucretia, you deserve every luxury this world has to offer."

"Your tastes will one day bleed me dry. Five denarii for a whore you did not touch. Two jugs of Cestian wine you did not drink... Pomegranates. Preparing me for the underworld, are you?" Titus paced his office as he reviewed his son's recent purchases. The day was young and much work yet remained undone to prepare for the games. The magistrate requested five of the finest gladiators of the House of Batiatus and Titus feared the coin awarded would be squandered by his irresponsible son.

Quintus hung his head as his father ranted; the muscles in his arms tensing with Titus' every move. Fucking relic, he fumed, why do his words scathe me so? "Gifts to Solonius upon assuming mantle of Dominus in his father's ludus. His friendship is as always invaluable to the House of Batiatus; his family has owned a ludus for five generations."

"A true friendship does not require payment in gifts or gold to sustain itself. Even the most luxurious tokens of affection cannot save you from ruin if trusted friend is betrayed. You treat the man as a cur one moment and a God the next." Titus chided and closely inspected his son. "A newly purchased toga?"

"Must every purchase I make warrant such scrutiny? We sit in the pulvinus this day, Father. The position allows for finer garments than those worn…" Quintus gestured at his father but said no more.

"You may sneer at my clothes, Quintus, but I adorn myself in the toga of a lanista. A man of influence would either scoff at the arrogance of your appearance or be forewarned of your lofty ambition." Quintus' silence raised concern in Titus' chest; he could not divine from where his son's ravenous ambition stemmed. "I know your mind. Do not break words with the magistrate on further advancement of our gladiators. Stay still and silent, smile graciously and you will at last be recognized as the honorable son of an honorable man."

A petite figure stood quietly in the doorway; once noticed, Petronia entered the office with caution. "Apologies. I am unwell." She moved a strand of dark hair off her pale forehead timidly. "May I remain at the villa while you depart for the games?" Petronia looked at her father-in-law pleadingly.

Titus looked to his son for answer. "Well?"

Quintus sighed with frustration. Petronia's respect for Titus' wishes bordered on excess and her very presence irritated him. "As you wish, Petronia." She nodded as a slave would and exited the room. Quintus marveled at the baseness of the woman – she refused a body slave, only wore adornments or colorful garments when guests were present and barely ate food presented to her. Her prayers would bore the Gods themselves to tears and she did not partake in wine. She was withered with self-imposed hunger; he felt nothing when he thrust his cock into her - no tits, no ass. She always seemed a lamb to slaughter when he approached her in bed. "Will she ever be present to witness the greatness of this ludus? Seven games, Seven games in the month since we wed and she yet cowers at the very sight of a sword! She cowers at everything."

"Petronia is a fine woman, one to be respected and emulated. Too many women in Capua are wolves in the guise of sheep. I would rather your wife be a woman who cowers than one who roars." Titus launched into a speech of the virtues his choice of bride possessed, a litany Quintus heard many times. "Petronia is only daughter to a famed importer, not a station too high above ours and one not too low. Her mother bore three sons; she is able give you children. She is meek and subservient. What more do you want of a wife?"

Quintus ran his fingers through his hair and rose from his place in exasperation. "I want a wife, not another slave! I fucked enough slaves but to be compelled to lay with one I have no desire for-"

"Quintus, she is a woman!" Quintus instinctively sat when his father raised his voice. "By virtue of that alone, she is equipped to satisfy you in a manner by which you may have heirs. That should be your only concern and your only desire. Now prepare yourself and remove that ridiculous stole and the cuff. I will attempt to return it to the merchant en route to the arena."

Quintus did as commanded, every obedient act a bitter poison. He wrapped the stole and looked upon his reflection in the shine of the silver cuff. Why did his father see a lowly lanista when he saw such greatness? Would no other person see him for the man he could yet become?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The day grew cooler as Gaia and Lucretia, followed at a respectful distance by Melitta, entered the stands of the arena. Lucretia felt majestic in the gown gifted to her by her friend and she tilted her face toward the dimming sun, her skin catching the warm glow. Gaia aided in her adornment and commented on her supple figure. As children, Lucretia thought herself gangly and flat-chested, yet Gaia envied her thin figure. Gaia craved sweets as a child and slimmed down in womanhood; the change did not go unnoticed. Every man in Capua watched as they walked through the market and Gaia was stopped by admirers at least four times. In Lucretia's fifteen year absence, Gaia became the most renowned woman in Capua.

"Gaia, why would you align yourself with such an elderly man when so many young, virile men desire you?" Lucretia asked as they searched the crowd for Horatius.

Her friend sighed deeply. "I am a woman of limited means and family background. I require a man of a respected household and substantial coin to reclaim proper position." Gaia replied and waved at her suitor. Gaia spoke truth; though of advanced age, Horatius stood tall and well-built as he gracefully navigating the crowd. His face had wrinkled only slightly; his vivid blue eyes and full lips redeemed him.

Two gladiators took the sand and began their match, but Lucretia barely noticed as she noted Horatius' strong gait and confident demeanor. Melitta took advantage of her Domina's distraction and peered curiously at the gladiators. She was never brought to the arena as a young slave; Vesta accompanied the ladies of the House of Gallus due to higher position in the household. Melitta was both intrigued and frightened by the sounds and smell of the arena. Lewd, snarling cheers of the crowd, sword screeching and scraping against sword in the square and the smells of sweat and something faintly metallic wafted in the air. This is the power of the arena, she mused, titillating and terrifying.

"What of love?" Lucretia could not help but inquire; all her life she basked in the glow of her father's affection but did not fail to notice the ambivalence between her parents. She yearned for an affectionate husband of intelligence, yet every suitor who approached her family with proposal spoke of her as one would refer to a good cow. Generous hips for childbearing, good breeding, pleasing coloring in case the need to skin her for clothing should arise. Such a man would drive her to madness and she would slit his throat while he slept within the first month of marriage.

Gaia paused to think then smiled encouragingly. "I believe I do love Horatius. In my own way. He is a good man, Lucretia." Horatius greeted the pair and Gaia kissed his cheeks. "Horatius Marianus Avitus, may I present my dearest friend Lucretia, daughter of Egnatius Romulus Gallus."

Horatius nodded respectfully at Lucretia, who gestured in kind. "Gallus, I knew the man. Made quite a name for himself in Tarracina as I recall. His passing was most unfortunate. Gaia does surround herself with such honorable people. And beautiful." Horatius kissed her hand graciously.

Lucretia was impressed and, for a moment, forgot that the man was more than twice her age. Gaia beamed with pride; perhaps she did love him. "Gratitude. You truly have a gift with words."

Horatius laughed; the breath wheezed in his chest, as if the exertion proved taxing. "Only those of truth. Have I missed any of the important matches?"

"We have only just arrived." Gaia spoke just as the murmillo sank his sword deep into the face of his terrified opponent. "But I feel the better matches have not yet begun."

Horatius motioned for the ladies to sit two rows back from the mouth of the arena. "If seated further away, you sacrifice view and seated any closer, you may find yourself fighting for your life along with the gladiators." Lucretia laughed and her entire body released tension. Capua brought joy and diversion in many forms. Celebrations in Tarracina were rare and conservative; the women in attendance were either children or mothers of five droning on about housework and bread leavening. Horatius gave commentary and she listened keenly; the gladiatorial games were of great importance in Capua and her knowledge in the sport was lacking. "I see Good Batiatus and his son Quintus sit in the pulvinus. Their man Zephyros enters now." Lucretia glanced up at the man seated near the magistrate.

Quintus watched the matches in reluctant silence. The magistrate sat but a chair away; if his wishes were made action, he would speak to the magistrate about elevating more gladiators of the House of Batiatus to prominent position in following games. He would place words in the magistrate's ear of all of his father's worthy men, especially Oenomaus, the man whose glories placed them in the pulvinus that very day. Instead, he seethed as he listened to the incessant prattling of preening peacocks, stroking their egos with gossip as women often do.

"Have any of you visited the newly restored villa of good Decimus?" The magistrate asked and Quintus yearned to yell out "I have!" His father's looks stilled his tongue.

Another man spoke. "Hunh. Restored. The man furnishes his house with reclaimed marble from the decrepit villa of Tiberius and dubs it restored. Have you seen it, Titus?"

Quintus' father shrugged modestly, looking embarrassed at being addressed by a man of such a high station. It seems my father has found his own match in my wife, bowing and groveling as they tongued the taints of those above them. "Good Decimus was gracious enough to extend invitation to discuss enlistment of my men in his games. But the eyes of a lanista can only judge the worth of a gladiator and cannot detect the inferiority of... furnishings."

Quintus finally spoke; he had knowledge of such things and would not be included in the same lowly class as his father. "Father, one can tell by the markings on the tiles, often mistaken for natural flaws in the stone. Easily distinguished from the wear of use."

All eyes in the pulvinus fell upon Quintus in approval. Almost all. "Your son speaks truth, good Batiatus."

Titus smiled tightly and shot his son a warning glance. "Though out of turn."

The magistrate laughed and Quintus was humiliated yet again by his father. "The exuberance of youth. Well missed in those of considerable age. Indeed, ruins may be youthfully adorned and yet ruins they remain."

"Speaking of, have you noted the presence of Horatius in the crowds?" The subject turned already and what little opportunity presented itself was turning from Quintus. "With Gaia, a woman more than half his age?" Quintus almost raised voice, but his effort was interrupted by another.

"Who accompanies them?"

Quintus looked into the stands, recognized Gaia and locked eyes with the woman beside her. She was watching him. He could hear nothing, not the roar of the crowd as Zephyros quickly slit the throat of Vibius' man or even the magistrate commending the man's performance. Such beauty, such elegance. The curves of her body encased in sultry red silk. The tilt of her chin – audacious and haughty. A current passed between them and Quintus could not shake her gaze. Who is she?

"Lucretia?"

Gaia's voice seemed so far away, as if she was calling her from a hill. The well-adorned man would not attract attention but for the fiery intensity in his thickly browed eyes. She knew, though he was seated, that he was not very muscled nor very tall. But the manner in which he sat in his chair, as a king or a chieftain upon a seat of office, he could be a giant. She had seen many men in her lifetime, was courted by many suitors, but none caused her chest to constrict as it did while the man boldly glanced her over from the sandals at her feet to the jewels in her hair. She placed a hand upon her chest to still her heart and watched as he took a deep breath, his attention on her ample chest.

"Lucretia! Horatius asks your opinion on this match." Gaia shook her shoulder and time moved forward once again.

The spell broke and she looked at the sands. A man was dragged to the niche holding the bodies of the dead and a wild-haired man thrust his arms in the air in victory. "To whom does this man belong?" She inquired for the sake of conversation. She gave no shit.

Horatius looked at her strangely; he presented the man only moments ago. "Titus... Lentulus Batiatus. Father to the man you so keenly watch."

Lucretia blushed as she realized that they witnessed her stolen moment with the son of Batiatus. "His carriage is… rather thought-provoking. What do you know of the man?"

Horatius smiled playfully; Lucretia could sense the unintentional condescension that men his age displayed. "Though any man would be mad with joy to catch your interest, he is newly married, Lucretia. "

Gaia's mouth curled in a sneer and Horatius was aroused by the gesture. "Ugh. To a mouse of a woman. Until hearing of Quintus' marriage, I thought the daughter of good Severus died of plague!"

Horatius stifled a laugh and nudged Gaia's arm. "Oenomaus takes the sand. Watch!" Perhaps my doubts are invalid, Lucretia wondered as Gaia grabbed Horatius' arm playfully and leaned upon his shoulder. Lucretia looked over at the pulvinus, feeling Quintus' eyes yet upon her. The skin behind her neck burned at the thought of such a man wedded to a lesser woman. The blaze in the man's eyes required tinder, not extinguishing.

Gaia wrapped her arm protectively around Lucretia's shoulders. "Are you unwell? I should not have torn you from the comforts of home after such a long journey."

Quintus was still looking at her when she broke the gaze and turned to her friend. "Gaia… I do not know."

Gaia grinned at the pulvinus and caught Quintus quickly averting eyes. "Fuck. Cupid's arrow has torn through you both, severing mind from body." She whispered hotly into Lucretia's ear. "I favor the man's friendship. Arrangements can be made to..."

"Gaia!" Lucretia gasped, almost offended. She was well-aware of Gaia's proclivities but they were not shared by Lucretia. She yet fretted over the honor of her beloved father's name. Gaia's father was known as a horrible brute of a man who was killed when they were toddlers; she gave no shit about his honor. "That he is wedded is not tragedy enough, I should turn mistress and further fuck myself?" She struggled to compose herself, absentmindedly smoothing the folds in her gown and patting her brown curls in place. "The primus will provide full distraction." She lied.

Melitta's eyes feasted upon the tall dark man entering the arena. Though leaner than the men who took the sand before him, each sculpted muscle caught the dim lights and glistened as polished black marble. His face was carved of a similar material, the sharp angles and his shaved head giving the look of a black panther she once beheld in the parade of a Praetor. It prowled its cage as he prowled the arena, inciting the crowd with an expression as hard as stone. He moved with confidence and concentration; he did not seem as foolishly proud as the other men, especially those who eventually fell. He placed his helmet over his face and poised his sword to salute his Dominus, the man who enchanted her Domina.

The match began and Oenomaus stalked his opponent, pacing around the square. The larger man finally leapt at him and the crowd cheered as Oenomaus rolled under him and stabbed his thigh. He slipped under the man's arm and sliced at his back, releasing a crescendo of blood. His opponent screamed in pain and beyond the helmet, Oenomaus' eyes glistened with satisfaction. She suddenly feared Oenomaus. His opponent made further attempts to strike at him but the man moved so fluidly. The match was only prolonged by Oenomaus' desire to excite the crowd by inflicting further injuries. He finally dealt deadly blow by leaping off a wall and piercing the man's helmet with such force that the metal cracked open. Blood, bones and brains darkened the sand as Oenomaus removed his helmet and thrust it into the air. He bowed to the men in the pulvinus; Quintus leapt from his chair, swelling with pride.

Oenomaus turned to the crowd, soaking in the glory of the win, when his eyes fell upon Melitta. She could imagine how she must look to him, wide-eyed and scared. His stern face broke into a kind smile and, despite herself, she smiled back. She felt dizzy with the attention; the job of a slave was to be useful when needed and blend into the periphery when assistance was not required. Kindness was as foreign to her as the man himself and, like him, would not easily be forgotten.

People began to empty the arena, whispering excitedly of the glorious primus and the ferocity of Batiatus' men. "I would have you ladies escorted back to your villas by palanquin. Wait here." As Horatius began to walk away, Gaia gripped Lucretia's arm and squealed with excitement.

"Palanquins! Can you imagine? Oh, I must tell him that we require only one as I will stay in your villa this night. Come!" Gaia rushed after her suitor and Lucretia turned back to the almost empty pulvinus.

Quintus yet stood in his place, looking across the blood soaked sands littered with torn flesh at Lucretia. No sounds, no cheers, no fights. The heavy silence enrobed them both and cemented them in place. Lucretia's thighs grew wet at the sight of the rise in Quintus' robes and Quintus opened his mouth to speak. Gaia reentered the arena and took Lucretia's hand. "Come, Horatius awaits." Gaia waived coyly at Quintus and pulled at her friend.

As their eyes were torn from each other, a shared thought echoed from a dark place deep in their minds.

Mine. Mine. Mine alone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"You were rather impressed with the man then?" Gaia asked as she attempted to stretch her legs in the small bath in the villa of Gallus. She sensed Lucretia's exhaustion and immediately had Melitta prepare wine and water.

The question made Lucretia blush with anxiety. "Well… yes." She could barely speak.

Gaia smiled brilliantly and reached over to embrace her friend, pressing her body firmly against Lucretia. "We are in desperate need of celebration!" She reached over Lucretia for the wine cups and tapped in the opium with a familiar glint in her eyes. She brought her face poised for a kiss closer to Lucretia, but her friend placed her hand on Gaia's chest for pause.

"Celebration?" Lucretia asked, her mind momentarily considering Gaia's suggestion regarding arrangements…

"Yes! Your approval of Horatius was all I required to finally come to conclusion. I will be his wife and we both will revel in luxurious palanquins and fine clothes and finer wine!" She giggled and kissed Lucretia's shoulder. Horatius, Lucretia thought, her mind yet swimming. Gaia asks about Horatius. "Come. Drink. Your pallor causes concern and I would see your tired spirit renewed with drink… and other things."

Lucretia smiled timidly and held the cup to her lips. Horatius had impressed her with his grace and sophistication, but reservations about his age were still upon mind. How much longer was he for this world? And when he departed, what would fate have in store for Gaia? Would she be taken care of in his absence? Gaia was so pleased to be by his side; would she ever again have opportunity to catch such a man?

Gaia placed her hand upon Lucretia's cheek and kissed her mouth chastely. "Do you no longer wish to revisit the instances of our girlhood? Temperaments change with the passage of time and I can understand- "

Lucretia silenced Gaia with her finger. "I am tired…" She put Gaia's arms on her shoulders; Gaia smiled with pure joy. "And I would find comfort in my true friend's touch." Perhaps the touch will cause ripe thoughts of Quintus to wither away.

They linked arms and drank down the opium and wine in a single gulp. Some escaped Gaia's mouth and they giggled as Lucretia kissed it from her chin. Lucretia's mother always drank her brew of herbs every night; the tincture aided in Gratiana's undisturbed sleep and Lucretia's nighttime reveling. Gaia ran her fingers through Lucretia's hair, shaking loose the pins and clasps that adorned the luxurious waves. She drew close and pressed her face against Lucretia's neck. Lucretia gasped with excitement and blamed her temporary obsession of a married man on her weariness and loneliness. Gaia could easily fill that void on this night.

"I have missed the intoxication of your scent." Gaia trailed her lips up and down Lucretia's neck as she slid her hand between her legs. Lucretia returned the favor, pulling Gaia closer by the buttock.

"I have missed the warmth of your cunt." The sentiment made Gaia laugh as she stroked Lucretia's nipple with a light touch that grew rougher as the kiss deepened. Lucretia pushed back with equal passion, fingers exploring Gaia's familiar body with insistent probing. They brought their lovemaking out of the bath and onto the hard marble, their warm bodies slapping against the coldness. Gaia lowered her face, first drawing Lucretia's breast into her mouth then kissing skin until she reached the softness of Lucretia's inner thigh. Lucretia arched forward with pleasure and looked down at her lover. To see... Quintus.

Quintus emerged from the baths and entered his chambers incensed. He hoped to break words with the goddess he encountered in the arena, only to watch helplessly as Gaia whisked her away in a fucking palanquin. How that woman was always able to procure such luxuries was beyond him; he both envied and admired her for her ability to live in such comfort despite absence of coin. Their friendship was built on shared ambition but did not progress past friendship for the same reason: Gaia wished for a husband with a larger purse and Quintus wished for a woman possessing greater morals and capacity for inspiration. Yet if the woman was friends with Gaia, her morals may be loose enough for Quintus to gain favor. Possessing the woman for a single night could drive her from his thoughts and regain control of his mind.

"Do you require me on this night?" The voice shredded upon what little patience he had left after the trying day. His wife stood dutifully in a simple opaque gown that covered her body from lustful sight.

"Why do you not wear the night garment I procured for you from the market? Do you not wish to please your husband?" Quintus growled as the slaves changed his clothes and pulled away his jewels. Petronia hid her eyes by turning away, making Quintus feel as if he were depraved for undressing in front of his own wife.

Petronia sniffed at the offense. "I would hope to please my husband by not dressing as a common whore." She moved toward him and placed her hand on his cheek. The gesture should have felt loving but for how calculated and controlled it was; she could have been picking lice from his hair. "If you wish to lay with me on this night, then I am prepared to do so to honor you." She laid herself on the bed like a piece of meat on a slab in a butcher shop.

Quintus felt disgusted at the sight of her: her concave belly, her lifeless breasts, the rigidity of her poise. But his father required grandchildren and Quintus required remedy to the madness the woman from the arena put in his tired mind. He perfunctorily removed his clothes and climbed on top of his wife. She turned away as always, but for the first time, Quintus turned her face back to him. He forced himself to look deep into her eyes. Hazel. Her large, round eyes were hazel with green and gold flecks, a lively color for such a drab woman. He stroked her pale cheeks with his thumbs and kissed her mouth. Warm.

"Quintus." She never before took his name and he desperately hoped to love the sound of it. Yet even as affection grew in him, his wife did not embrace him, nor did she call to him with love. He parted her legs and thrust forward, feeling the edges of her bones dig into his thighs. He buried his face in her almost black hair; the musky scent of prayer incense was pleasing. Her skin was soft as he moved his hands up her dress, groping her breasts and trying to pull the dress over her head. She resisted; he knew she did not enjoy being completely naked even with her husband. He yanked harder at the dress, tearing the shoulder and threw it aside.

When he looked back at his wife, her body was supple, her hair was brown and her eyes were blue. She smiled wickedly at him and pitched her body toward him as he thrust deeper and deeper inside her. She screamed with pleasure and his mouth enveloped hers, as he squeezed her breast harder until he approached climax. "Quintus!" She shrieked his name and he fell upon her, panting and sweating.

"Quintus! Get off. Get off!" He rolled off of the woman beneath him and she did not have the face of the woman in the arena but the face of his wife, cheeks red with shame and eyes filled with tears. "Who did you think you were fucking? Who?" She raised her voice and the sharp pitch was not unlike the squeaking of a rusty door. Petronia gathered her dress and pulled it on sobbingly. "You tore my only night dress. How will I wear it?" She whimpered, attempting to tie her dress modestly. "What savagery was this? I am your wife! Not a slave to be used and discarded as you see fit!"

Quintus grabbed her shoulders and attempted to shake the haughty self-righteousness from her. "Oh, would that I could discard you! I would happily see your fragile form on the streets than by my side!" He released her shoulders, lest he cause injury in his rage. "If my touch so disgusts, then go and lay with my father, whom you seem hold to such higher fucking esteem than me!"

Petronia crumpled to the floor, already exhausted from the arguing. Quintus hated her weakness and imagined the woman from the arena standing chin to chin, challenging him. The thought unexpectedly aroused and calmed him. His wife looked to him with pleading eyes. "Why am I not adequate when I obey and honor the men of this house? Why can you not accept me the way I am?"

Quintus pulled Petronia to her feet and kissed her cheek. For a moment, Petronia looked hopeful. "Because, my dear wife, I deserve much better." He pushed her away with frustration and stalked the villa for a suitable slave to bed for the night. Petronia leaned back against the chaise and began to cry.

"Ugh, the petty bickering! It could melt ear from fucking head." Gannicus immersed himself in the bath while slaves removed slick scented oils from Oenomaus' skin. The gladiators bathed after meeting with Titus in the villa, where their Dominus extolled Oenomaus' skill and discipline and pressed for similar behaviors in the newly branded men, Gannicus among them. The ranting between newlyweds did not escape their ears.

"Hm." Oenomaus replied, staring into the distance. He never before considered what one thought of his killings beyond the cheers of the crowd that greeted him when he ended a man's life. Why did he comfort the girl in the stands with a smile, her eyes filled with fear? Why did her opinion matter?

"'Hm?'" Gannicus splashed water at his friend, who looked upon him with jesting annoyance. "What seizes mind? No words of wisdom? No claims that the Dominus must have adequate reason to rage at his little shit of a wife? No chiding for gossiping about the man we serve?"

"My mind is… occupied. Gannicus." Oenomaus waved the other slave away and knelt at the side of the pool. Gannicus moved closer in return. Oenomaus was well liked among the other men, but the young recruit's humorous nature and lack of guile endeared him to the seasoned gladiator. Oenomaus had many brothers but counted one man as friend. "You desire many cunts and work toward title of champion to that end… rather recklessly and foolishly."

Gannicus grinned with self-satisfaction and shook his head. "You chide and delay talk of true matters weighing on that mighty head of yours."

Oenomaus thought of the girl, her eyes brimming with bewilderment. "Do you not wish for a woman who will offer not only pleasures of the body, but a shoulder to lend strength of mind, to offer completion?"

Gannicus laughed, the sound echoing through the ludus walls. "Why?" He stood from the pool, his full nakedness exposed and muscles flexed. "I am strong enough, as evidenced by the shits that fell at my sword in this morning's games. And I am full of myself, so I am more than complete."

"I speak to the wrong man of such delicate things." Oenomaus chuckled and lowered his chin into his chest pensively. "I have achieved pinnacle in skill and fucked women paid to be by my side. The action is now… hollow."

"May I never be cursed with the illness to desire a wife. A worthy woman would have to possess the body of Venus and the mind of Minerva, with a mouth that could suck meat clear off bone!" Gannicus wrapped himself in subligaria and patted Oenomaus on the shoulder. "You are a man of honor, Oenomaus. Your desires are honorable. May the Gods bless you with a woman of equal standing to spend your days with. You are deserving of such gift." Gannicus began to walk to his cell, then turned to Oenomaus with an impish grin. "As for my part, I pray she holds her wine better than you. My soul would rejoice at a proper drinker in this ludus!"

Oenomaus lay on his pallet, absentmindedly rubbing a scratch in his side. The boy lifted spirits, but the girl's face haunted Oenomaus as he searched for sleep. He placed an ultimatum upon himself - the next victory he achieved in a primus would warrant request for a wife from his Dominus. His loneliness was a gaping hole in the midst of victories and accolades and he would find comfort in the arms of a woman who loved him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Lucretia awoke to a thick humidity in the morning air, beads of sweat rolling over her naked body. She tried to remember where her dress was as she sleepily groped around her, then felt Gaia by her side. Memories of the past night filled her mind and she vaguely recalled the man she saw in the arena. Exhaustion caused mind to slip, she decided as she pulled a robe over her moist shoulders and clumsily set her hair. She smiled down at Gaia. The woman's slumber could not be disturbed, not by parades or trumpets or even her grandfather's scolding, as Lucretia witnessed many times in their youth. She left her friend in bed and stood to call upon Melitta, only to see the girl standing at the entrance of her room, her back turned to afford her Domina privacy.

"You rise so early, Melitta?" Lucretia asked, touching the girl's shoulder. Melitta nodded in obedience.

"As do you, Domina." Melitta replied, laying house sandals at Lucretia's feet. Their mornings were a well-practiced routine. "Shall I prepare morning meal?"

Lucretia turned back to Gaia, snoring quietly against the pillows. "I will wait for Gaia to rise. Send Rufus to market to fetch Cestian wine and preparations for a modest feast." She whispered, placing coin in Melitta's palm.

Melitta did not move and looked about nervously; the tincture was strong and Gratiana would not rise for hours, and yet Melitta worried. "Your mother scolded the slaves for excessive spending, Domina. Do you think it wise-?"

"Tell Mother to discuss such matters with me directly! Fuck excessive spending, I will have celebration." Lucretia snapped, insulted by her mother's implication. She softened tone to spare Melitta her anger. "If my mother complains, tell her I ordered you upon threat of death to obey my commands. You are my body slave and cannot be punished for _my _frivolity!"

Melitta grinned and hastened to fulfill Lucretia's wishes. Rufus yet slumbered quietly in his chamber, his long limbs sprawling out of the too-small pallet. His head was a mess of wild curls that burned copper against the pale freckled skin of his broad shoulders. Melitta held a cup over his head, poised to strike.

"Spill a drop and I will discard the fact that you are a frail woman from mind."

Melitta giggled and sipped daintily. "I am parched. Why waste cool drinking water on a fool?" Rufus turned his large brown eyes to his friend and Melitta threw the few drops of water in the cup onto his face.

He lazily wiped his cheeks; he could never raise hand against Melitta, though he jested about the act. She was placed far above him, holding title of Lucretia's body slave; in addition, he held his friend to high esteem and would not see her harmed. "And a pleasant morning to you. For what reason am I roused so early from sleep?"

Melitta snatched the pillow from underneath his head and tossed the coins onto his chest. "No hour is too early for a slave. Domina requires you go to market." Rufus sprang to his feet and Melitta gave chase into the courtyard of the small villa.

"Sh! I do not wish my mother or Gaia awoken by such childishness! Go!" Lucretia chided with the slightest of smiles and Melitta ducked behind her Domina, feigning interest in a skewed hairpin.

Rufus bowed to Lucretia respectfully and winked at Melitta. "Yes, Domina."

Melitta reset the pin in her Domina's hair as Lucretia waited patiently for her to finish. The girl's skill with styling hair and clothing was admirable. Lucretia could dress as a woman well beyond her station using Melitta's talents; she was of great value. "Do you favor Rufus, Melitta?"

Melitta spoke with a sapphire pin clenched between her teeth. "Yes, Domina. He is a fine friend."

"Vesta! Wake my mother and inform her of guests arriving shortly; I would have her properly attired before midday has passed." The older slave immediately stopped in her duties and did as commanded; Lucretia never favored the woman and Vesta feared her anger, for her own Domina was well advanced in age and could pass into the other world in a moment. "Only a friend?"

Melitta looked at her Domina with worry in her eyes. Lucretia demanded she remain chaste to one day use her virginity to her advantage, but she never spoke of Rufus with suspicion. "Yes, Domina. Time passes quickly and with much enjoyment in the jests Rufus and I share, but such traits are not be found to be attractive in a mate."

Lucretia was intrigued and she faced Melitta with renewed purpose. "What traits do you speak of? Rufus is not unpleasant to look upon. Does the sight not moisten your thighs?"

Melitta blushed with mention of such things; despite many years of servitude, she was not yet accustomed to vulgarities. "With respect, as a young girl I was told my chastity would be given as gift to a man of worth. I have seen the men you hold in high regard, Domina, and such a man does not play games as a child would or run about in idle pursuits. He commands respect in his presence without requesting such honors."

"And you would find such a man suitable to surrender your virtue?" Lucretia pursued, thinking of Quintus. Perhaps she desired a similar man and could hold future suitors to comparison against the lanista to aid her in securing the right husband.

Melitta placed her hand upon Lucretia's, knowing her mind. "I would surrender my virtue to a man my Domina would deem worthy of the gift." Lucretia was pleased with her answer.

"Gift?" Gaia spoke mid-yawn, sauntering into the courtyard mostly bare of clothing. "What gift? Has Horatius arrived with gifts and more gifts?" Gaia stumbled slightly, still tainted with sleep.

Lucretia stood and handed Gaia a gown. "He has not yet arrived but will before midday sun to fetch you. I will send word to your mother to accompany us for a small feast."

Melitta busied herself with dressing Gaia, thankful for the distraction. "Hm… I will then announce my intention to finally marry the poor man. He made mention of blessing our union with a day of gladiatorial games, should I accept. Perhaps we could acquire men from the honored house of Batiatus."

Lucretia feigned disinterest. "As you wish."

Gaia laughed and threw her arm around Lucretia, feeling her breast. "As I wish? I will command it and it shall be done!" She squeezed firmly, then demanded morning meal and a cup of wine.

Horatius arrived precisely at the appointed time, surveying the modest villa with a critical eye. He kept comments to himself, but Lucretia sensed a barrier between herself and the man that was not there when they were first introduced. Marcella Aelius, Gaia's mother, lagged behind. The woman dressed as if she were her daughter's age, draped in pearls the size of grapes in a gown exposing her faded endowments. In stark contrast, Gratiana emerged in a white stola with simple red embroidery on the hem. With Gaia's announcement, the ladies were swept up in a frenzy of planning and preparation.

"We really should begin planning for the games. With so many festivals nearly upon us, securing worthy men for the event will become difficult if time is wasted." Gaia mentioned casually, leaning into Horatius' arm. He attempted to conceal his hand upon her buttock. "I would have Oenomaus of Batiatus' ludus. He showed great skill against his opponent."

"Indeed, we are of one mind in that regard." Horatius motioned to one of his slaves; he came prepared with three slaves at hand, as if he were privy to Gaia's intent to marry before decision was made. "Send word to Batiatus; I will have words this very day."

"We shall accompany you!" Gaia sprang from the chaise, clutching Lucretia's hand. Lucretia's heart thudded in her chest at the thought.

"For what purpose? This is a matter for men to decide. Women have no mind for business. We should remain at the villa to attend to other preparations." Gratiana finally spoke. Lucretia sensed her mother's discomfort at the situation; in her eyes, Gaia was beneath Lucretia in reputation and Lucretia should have married before her friend.

"Oh Gratiana, a ludus! How thrilling!" Marcella squealed, adjusting her breasts. Gaia subtly rolled her eyes at Lucretia, embarrassed by her mother's display. Her mother was once even more beautiful than her daughter but age and excess of wine drastically eroded her charms. "We should depart at once! What grand celebrations will be had on the occasion of my much-valued daughter's wedding!"

"Quintus!" Titus beckoned, waving away the messenger at his door. "Why a man would tarnish his good name with such a cheap woman is beyond my comprehension." He mumbled to himself. His son was still asleep in the guest quarters, entangled with another slave girl Titus would soon sell in the market. The elder Batiatus required a grandson to secure his legacy and he would not have his son waste seed on slaves.

Quintus stumbled from his bed, readjusting his robe as he hurried to the courtyard; his father only beckoned once and he always expected hastened response. "Father?" Quintus nearly tripped on the hem and his father sneered.

"Make preparation quickly; Avitus arrives shortly to acquire men for games in celebration of his pending marriage to Gaia, daughter of Aelius. Order your wife to join us; the man arrives with some noble women." Titus looked his son over with disappointment. "And dress appropriately."

Ordering me about as a shit-eating slave, Quintus fumed as he obeyed his father, have ever been more than that to him? He wondered if the goddess would be among the guests; in the night, he shut his eyes tightly as he fucked the slave, imagining the woman's hair, her lips, her breasts, her hips. The efforts were futile and he was spent from the attempt. He peeked into his quarters at Petronia standing naked as she wiped her body with a wet cloth. He watched for a moment, then burst into the room. She gasped in fear and attempted to cover herself with a sheet. He enjoyed her discomfort immensely and thought perhaps this bemusement would cause his years with her to pass swiftly.

"Ready yourself, wife. Guests arrive. And for fuck's sake, dress as the lady of this house and not as one of its slaves."

Lucretia's stomach churned as they approached the imposing villa on the hill; she barely touched the meal Rufus brought from the market and the anticipation of seeing Quintus again made the earth under her quiver. I do not know the man, she chided herself, why am I so vexed? Gaia gripped Lucretia's arm, sensing her mood. The group entered the villa of Batiatus to be warmly greeted by Titus and his son. Lucretia noted the confidence in Quintus' stride, only faltering when he noticed her standing beside Gaia.

Titus shook arms with Horatius; the men were of a similar age, though the lanista had a weathered appearance after constantly baking under the sun of the arena. "Greetings, Good Avitus! You honor our house with your presence." He motioned them to follow him into a modestly decorated seating area. To Lucretia, the room was opulent and she looked directly at Quintus in approval. He was watching her with hungry eyes; her thighs were quickly made slick under his gaze.

"The honor is mine, Batiatus. To be in the presence of such a skilled lanista and an honorable Roman." Titus dipped his head in respect at Horatius and the gesture would usually irritate his son. Quintus barely noted his father's obsequiousness. "We were quite impressed by your man Oenomaus, champion of this ludus."

Titus beamed with a pride Quintus often equated with a child who not longer shits himself. "Oenomaus is much in demand of late, following his recent victories in the arena. You have mind toward retaining the man?"

Gaia quickly interjected; the ladies of Gallus sat yet unintroduced and Horatius' dismissal surprised her. "We could think of no other to lead in the primus of games to celebrate our marriage! You've met my mother and Gratiana, widow of Gallus? This is his daughter, Lucretia."

Titus nodded at the women politely, wondering what business they had in these proceedings. "I welcome you all to my home."

Lucretia. Quintus repeated the name in his mind. Lucretia, Lucretia, Lucretia. "Good Avitus, you have acquired a rare jewel. And adorn our house with such unsurpassed beauty." Quintus smiled at the women and Lucretia tried to imagine his expression when he climaxed. "In honor of your betrothal, we offer wine and…" Quintus clapped his hands and the sound of metal against flesh against marble echoed from the corridor. "Presentation of our finest gladiators."

The men walked into the courtyard, arms bound and bodies glistening. Melitta, who stood silently by her Domina with her eyes downcast in disinterest, finally raised her gaze to find Oenomaus in the crowd. A gladiator with blonde locks and a wicked glint in his eye caught her eye and winked at her. When she offered no reaction, he puckered his lips and blew her a kiss. Bored with the gesture, she quickly broke gaze and found the tall dark skinned man. Unlike his impish brother, Oenomaus stood in his place rigidly, his shoulders thrown back and his spine straight. He stepped forward for closer inspection and his muscles caught the sun, turning the warm glow to a cool undulating light. His mouth curled in the slightest grin at seeing her.

Horatius stood and inspected the man, nodding in approval. "Gaia would have no other for the primus; we would require a few more men for the lesser games. Opponent to come from the ludus of Vibius."

Quintus spoke before his father was able to voice agreement. "Perhaps the house of Solonius would provide better stock, for the purpose of exciting the crowd. Vibius, while a good man, is a weak lanista." Quintus ignored his father's disapproving gaze; he would push to impress Lucretia in hopes of gaining her favor.

Horatius smiled at the boy's clumsy attempt at negotiation. "His prices are… rather steep for such a small event. Vibius simply offers beasts for your able gladiators to slaughter."

Lucretia sensed Quintus' desires and spoke to bolster his attempt. "But imagine the unforgettable legacy of your wedding celebrations: to have the two most accomplished lanistas in Capua match their gladiators in fearsome combat. The gods will shower your marriage with blessings."

Horatius nodded, momentarily impressed by the girl. "Your point _is_ difficult to disregard, Lucretia. Very well, Solonius' men will be retained."

Quintus concealed his arousal beneath a cushion; collaborating with Lucretia was exhilarating. He never experienced such a high and his mind was still in disorder when his wife appeared in the doorway. He sighed in annoyance. "May I present my wife, Petronia?"

Lucretia nearly retched at the sight of Quintus' wife: a thin, pale apparition with her hair pulled back severely, dressed in a brick red stola with black beading creeping along the edges. "Welcome to our home." Her voice seemed as if a wind carried it into the room from afar. She awkwardly sat with the women, lacing her fingers tensely in her lap. "Congratulations, Gaia, on a fortunate match to an honorable man."

"Gratitude." Gaia leaned toward the woman's ear, breathing heavily. "Have we arrived at an inopportune time? Are you in mourning?" Gaia whispered and Petronia blushed with embarrassment. Lucretia almost pitied the girl until she thought of how difficult life must be for a man like Quintus to be married to such a weakling.

Titus sensed his daughter-in-law's uneasiness and spoke as distraction. "You are in time to see a demonstration. Horatius, which of my men would you see in combat?"

Horatius kissed his betrothed gently on her cheek. "Gaia will choose the combatants."

"Hmm." Gaia giggled and clapped, bouncing in place. Horatius watched her breasts as she moved and Titus looked on in disgust. Gaia scanned the room, then closed her eyes and pointed her arms at random. "That one and that one."

A lanky Carthaginian tapped the samnite on his shoulder and the men shared a quick moment of warmth. The blonde made another attempt to catch Melitta's attention to no avail. She kept glancing at Oenomaus. _That_ is a man, she mused. "Auctus, samnite and Gannicus, murmilllo. Fine choices, Gaia." Titus smiled in an attempt to be magnanimous, despite his disapproval of the girl.

She raised an eyebrow and leaned into her intended, running her hand down his thigh. "I do have the best of taste." She enjoyed the sneer barely realized on Titus' lips.

"As editor, you must give the order." Quintus looked at Lucretia as he spoke to Gaia, an action that was not unnoticed by Petronia and Titus. Lucretia could not look away; she felt as if her face was cemented in place as a statue.

She paused a moment, savoring the tension in the air as everyone waited for her to speak, and winked at Lucretia. "Begin!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Gannicus and Auctus took position at opposite ends of the courtyard, circling like two butting rams before charging at each other, battle cries filling the villa. As interested as Melitta became in the gladiatorial arts, her attention was fixed on Oenomaus, who stole glances at her then bowed his eyelids, perhaps in respect of her station. She was no whore upon the street nor a scantily clad dancer at a celebration, though his eyes did not linger upon such women either. His averted gaze held different meaning with regard to the body slave of Lucretia. What the meaning was, he did not fully comprehend. But as Melitta watched him, her respect for the man grew. She cast her gaze downward and listened to the unfamiliar thud of wooden sword striking wooden shield.

"Your men are truly of a superior form, good Batiatus." Lucretia commented, trying to pry her eyes from Quintus. Thankfully, the older men did not seem to notice the quiet exchange between them.

"Gratitude." Titus replied kindly but tersely, offering her little regard but no disrespect. Quintus offered a smile, which Lucretia happily returned. Petronia bit the inside of her cheek and stopped herself from addressing the affront. Does this woman have no shame?

"Have you much interest in the games, Lucretia?" Quintus longed to hear her speak his name and loved the feel of hers upon his lips. She exuded an infectious power that made him bolder in his advances, even in Petronia's presence.

"I recall the blood and sand from my childhood. Tarracina, unfortunately, has no arena and is rather dull. My return to Capua offers new delights in which to indulge… Quintus." Lucretia watched the subtle joy pass over Quintus' face and resisted the urge to witness the disapproval upon her mother's face.

"Look, Auctus gains advantage!" Gratiana exclaimed in an attempt to divert her daughter's attention. Lucretia glared at her mother and reluctantly turned as Auctus rolled under Gannicus' shield to strike from behind. Gannicus growled in pain as Auctus mounted his back, pulled his head and placed the wooden gladius to his throat. The audience applauded the victor and Auctus smiled with pride.

"You have gained some skill, brother." Auctus said as he helped Gannicus off the marble.

Gannicus subtly whacked Auctus' on the ass with his sword before surrendering it to Doctore. "A momentary lapse in form, to be rectified when we next take the sand against each other."

The other men laughed and Barca rolled his eyes. "The cock on you. Newly branded and you count yourself among those with skill developed over many years?"

Gannicus grinned at Oenomaus, who responded in kind with encouragement. The gesture bolstered Gannicus' already inflated ego. "Barca, years also add weakness to aging bones!"

Horatius stood from his place and patted Titus' shoulder with a condescending air that did not go unnoticed by Quintus. "A most impressive display. We will have them both along with Oenomaus and three more men of your choosing, Auctus to fight in the match before the primus. The games will take place some time after the wedding ceremony seven days hence."

Quintus stepped forward to be noticed. "We look forward to celebrating your marriage with gifts of blood and death." He looked directly at Lucretia. "Till we meet again in the arena."

"At the wedding itself. The day would not be complete without the presence of the most honorable lanista in the Republic!" Gaia exclaimed, grinning broadly at her betrothed while she gripped his hand. Her arms stretched forward, breasts pressed together – Lucretia knew the man would deny her nothing.

He seemed hesitant but Horatius relented, eager to please the woman who offered such a body for his use alone. "Of course. I shall look for you on the day, Titus."

Quintus spoke boldly, frustrated with his father's incessant groveling. "You honor us."

As a disgruntled Titus walked his guests to the door, Quintus lingered behind. "See to the clean-up. Every crumb must be wiped away." He barked at his wife. Petronia obeyed, though she was fully aware of her husband's intentions. Lucretia also trailed further back. Quintus quickly snatched up her hand and kissed it before the others noticed. The skin burned and Lucretia hastened to Gaia's side, anxious of her own reaction to his touch. The softness and exotic scent of Lucretia's skin clung to his lips so that Quintus could barely move them to bid his guests farewell.

Titus waited for the slaves to shut the doors before chastising his son. "For the sake of Jupiter. Can you not remain _silent_? Speaking so audaciously to a woman well beneath your station?"

Quintus grew angry at the disregard of the goddess to whom he became so quickly devoted. "Beneath my station? Did you not see the company she keeps? The coin he places in your purse?"

Titus scoffed as he grabbed a cup of honeyed wine from a nearby slave. "Avitus is a fool to marry a whore with no background or dowry. Do not tell me you would follow suit?" Quintus was silent; he seethed but feared his father's wrath if he spoke further. "Good. Give Doctore instruction to ready the men for Avitus' games; the man gives little time for proper preparation."

"What can a son do but obey his father?" Quintus remarked bitterly and attended to his duties, Lucretia ever upon his mind. Titus later ordered him to accompany the swords to the metallurgist for repairs; he sent his son to tend to such minutia, not yet trusting him with more important tasks.

The route back to the villa from the metallurgist passed the Aelius villa and Quintus felt himself compelled to climb the stairs to the entrance of Gaia's home.

"Quintus!" Marcella embraced him, awkwardly thrusting her body close to him. She led him into the main hall of the villa, hanging from his arm seductively. "What an interesting surprise. Have you forgotten a detail regarding the games?"

Gaia flounced past her mother and snatched the man's arm, much to his relief. "He comes to visit _me_, Mother. The apothecary is at the gate bearing herbs to soothe your indigestion."

Quintus waited until the older woman flounced away angrily before finally speaking. "Was that necessary?" He remarked with an arched brow, as a slave plied him with wine.

"I may bear children one day; should they be forced to witness their grandmother behaving so foolishly?" Gaia sat across from him, stretching her legs upon the chaise. She eyed him closely, analyzing his uncomfortable posture. "Yet you did not come her to discuss my withered mother. You have a more ripe, succulent woman in mind."

Quintus felt his skin flush red at someone voicing his inner desires. "You have taken words from mouth."

Gaia laughed at his expression; she never saw the man blush before, even as slaves fucked in festivities they jointly attended. "I am not blind. But I warn you, the girl is virtuous, no matter how I attempt to influence her delicate sensibilities."

Quintus was simultaneously relieved and disappointed at Gaia's revelation. He knew she would inform him of Lucretia's true nature. "I wish to break words with her. I must know her heart for myself."

"To what end? You are married, Quintus." Gaia sat up to emphasize the gravity of her words. "I warned you to resist your father, no matter how difficult that task may have been. Now a woman you truly desire is before you – virtuous, intelligent, strong with a body designed for pleasure. And you are bound to that… twitching rabbit."

Quintus ran his fingers through his hair, feeling the tension in his neck. She did say as much on the announcement of his wedding, yet at the time he believed he could mold Petronia into a suitable mate. The transformation never occurred and the bond was sealed.

Gaia sensed his desperation and offered recourse. "Come to my chambers on the day of my wedding. I will arrange a meeting." She stood and brought her face close to his, an effective maneuver of control he had observed many times. "Stay within your boundaries or by Juno, I will sever your cock _and_ balls; your father will never have the grandchildren he so desires."

The day of Gaia's wedding arrived and Lucretia had barely a moment's pause as she supervised preparations. Her mother urged her to the task, hoping her daughter's service would please the Gods and bless her with a similar match. Gratiana watched Lucretia with a close and critical eye as she brought hairpins to adorn the plaits Melitta wove in the traditional six parts. Melitta folded the pieces into a crown-like coif secured with ribbons.

"Lucretia, Marcella informs me that Horatius consulted the auspices well in advance of Gaia's acceptance of his proposal _and_ purchased her tunica recta himself. To catch such an honorable man would behoove you as well." Gratiana commented sternly, smiling superficially at Gaia. "You are very fortunate, my child."

"It is the house of Avitus that is fortunate, Mother. Has this city seen a more beautiful bride?" Lucretia kissed her friend's hand, careful not to disturb Melitta's work.

"They will some day soon." Gaia winked, balancing a cup of wine as her slaves adorned her with rings and bracelets, mostly provided by Horatius' coin. Gaia's family could barely cover the cost of the wedding dinner, a responsibility the house of Aelius was obligated to bear.

"You did not witness the opulence with which I was wed, Lucretia!" Marcella exclaimed, carrying her daughter's stola and red veil. Gaia rolled her eyes subtly at Lucretia as her mother began to dress her. "The entire city marveled at my beauty."

"That event was so many years ago, Marcella. Lucretia was born three years _after_ you wed." Gratiana spoke with disdain. Marcella had always refused to age gracefully even at the expense of Gaia's reputation, until the girl became the cause of her own notoriety.

"Horatius approaches!" Gaia's preening cousins shrieked as they burst into the room like a flock of hungry seagulls and hurried Gaia's preparation. She took her place in the ceremony and the magistrate himself officiated, a rare honor. Lucretia searched the crowd for Quintus but she observed his father's behavior and knew they seated themselves behind men of higher standing.

"Lucretia!" Gaia whispered with urgency. "I've forgotten my grandmother's ruby bracelet in my quarters and I cannot trust another with the task. These bitches have been nipping at my grandmother's heirlooms since the poor woman died."

Lucretia placed her hand reassuringly on Gaia's shoulder. "Worry for nothing. I will retrieve it." She rushed to Gaia's chambers and sifted through the piles of clothes and accessories on the chaise until she recovered the bracelet tucked under a tattered dressing gown. As she turned to walk back, she noticed a shadow emerging from the curtains; the fear nearly stopped her heart until the man's face was revealed. "Quintus!"

Quintus controlled himself, though with much resistance. Lucretia was a vision in a deep blue gown that was tightly wound over her soft curves. "Lucretia… I must speak with you." He stepped closer to her and she moved toward him.

No words were uttered; they locked in a kiss, their tongues sliding in and out of each other's mouths. Quintus grasped her breast tightly and Lucretia groaned in ecstasy. Her hands fumbled with his toga and found his already hard cock. The girth and weight of it in her palm made her slick with desire as Quintus' other hand journeyed up her leg and parted her thighs. "Stop! I cannot." She cried out, nearly pushing him away from her.

Quintus struggled to catch his breath; the strength with which she shoved him away was impressive. "Are you denying yourself? Or do you not desire me?"

Lucretia turned from him to compose herself, then looked him in the eye. She wished to speak truthfully to the man. "I do want you. But… I cannot do this." She patted her face with a small cloth, ensuring that her motions could not be misinterpreted as seductive. "My father denied me nothing all my life and asked only one thing of me in return. I feel I could betray a thousand oaths to indulge this… Yet I cannot break his vow. I loved my father, and for those I love, I would sacrifice all." She stood as still as death, waiting for his response.

Quintus lowered his head; her words shamed him. How could he exhibit such disrespect? "If you succumbed, you would not be the woman I have fallen in love with." He turned away from her and spoke over his shoulder. He was not as brave as she was; he could not face her. "I will cause you no further grievance." He quickly walked out of the room, each step feeling as though he carried a great burden upon his shoulders.

Lucretia sank to the floor and clutched her head, her dress and hair still askew from Quintus' groping. He loved her, her chest constricted at the thought. He loves me. The tension in his voice, his lips crushing hers as they kissed. Lesser men attempted to woo her and were intimidated by the aggressiveness of her passion. Quintus responded boldly; she shocked herself, coming so close to submission. Lost in thought, she did not notice Gaia running into the chambers, holding the crown of flowers on her head. "Lucretia! Where have you been? The feast is concluded and Horatius makes ready the wedding procession." Seeing her friend's condition, Gaia's pale skin burned red with rage. "Did he force himself on you? I will have him hung by his cock!"

Lucretia took Gaia's hand and gently pulled her to her side. Gaia crouched patiently, forgetting Horatius' urgency. "He honored my wishes. And… he said he loves me." Lucretia wept despite herself and Gaia was filled with fear. Lucretia wept only on her father's deathbed; she was well-schooled in the art of concealing one's true emotions. "Gaia… we've shared the briefest of moments, barely passed a few words between us and yet… I will not survive this. I wish I never returned to Capua. That I never entered that arena. To have knowledge of the existence of such a man. And to be wedded to a simpering, weak…" She rubbed her skin obsessively where he laid his hands upon her and curled her fingers. Gaia held her shoulders to keep her steady. The breakdown was terrifying. "The feel of his hands upon me. I longed for his cock deep inside my cunt, his body entwined with mine. This is a physical pain, manifesting in my bones."

Gaia tilted Lucretia's face to meet her eyes, her face steeled with purpose. "My darling… do you truly love him?"

Lucretia nodded without hesitation. "If I have any understanding of the word. I do love him. I _crave_ him."

Gaia lifted Lucretia from the floor and began to conceal signs of her encounter with Quintus, smoothing her hair and adjusting her gown. "Many women vied for the attention of Horatius. I plotted against every one of them _and_ arranged for Horatius to accidentally see me naked in the baths of a common friend. A match with a former magistrate was difficult – I was aware of this - but I made it so because I wanted it. All that stands between you and _your_ goal is Petronia."

Lucretia cautioned herself against optimism, but Gaia was so confident. "And what can I plot to see _her_ removed? She is his wife, Gaia, bound to him by the Gods themselves."

Gaia linked arms with Lucretia and led her back to the festivities with these words: "We women strike not with swords but with malice of words. Let us see plans set in motion and by the conclusion of the primus two days hence, you will have your man."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"Enter."

Rufus walked into his Domina's chambers with caution; the hour was late and the rest of the house slumbered peacefully after an uneventful day. The only activity of note was Domina's purchase of a new gown for tomorrow's games celebrating Gaia's union. Gratiana remained in her room with the curtains drawn, sipping her brew and napping. Rufus never entered the living chambers of the villa unaccompanied by Melitta or Vesta, and he was afraid of unintentionally causing offense. "Domina."

Lucretia moved only within the shadows, hiding her face from the slave. "How many years have you served this house, Rufus?"

"Faithfully all my life, Domina." Rufus replied, trying to recall the first day he performed a service for the house of Gallus. His mother brought the family to the house and served until her sudden death when he was five years of age. Since then he tended to the family as much as he was able.

"Have you never desired a life outside these walls?" Lucretia asked, her voice becoming deeper with each word. She moved as close as she could to Rufus without revealing her expression. "A life of freedom?"

Rufus felt his heart beating in his throat; the incorrect response could see him harshly chastised. He bore witness to the cruelty of the Romans as a young man, when his father was executed for allegedly touching a Roman woman inappropriately. As Vesta told the tale, he refused the woman's advances and she retaliated with false accusation. Rufus took a deep breathe and gave a measured answer. "Freedom is a concept foreign to my heart."

Lucretia smiled; she so enjoyed torturing the boy but her purpose was pressing. "And what would you do if freedom was granted? I can offer you advantage to discover the pleasant taste of it, if you would but perform one task for your Domina." She finally emerged from the shadows and placed her hand upon Rufus' pale cheek, bringing his face closer to hers. She smelled of rose water. "Prove your loyalty, and I will release you from the bonds of slavery. Betray my trust, and I will brand you a runaway and have you executed for escaping these walls… Are you willing?"

He stood, debating decisions in his head. He never dreamed of freedom; he knew nothing of life outside the house of Gallus, without Vesta and Melitta by his side. An image of a possible future flashed before his eyes and he replied: "Yes, Domina."

Morning came and Melitta carried jugs of warmed water from the kitchen to the baths, where her Domina reclined in the narrow pool. "Leave me a while… I will beckon you when you are needed." Lucretia ordered, closing her eyes and inhaling the steam. She reviewed her plans over and over in her head; she feared her faith in Gaia's confidence would lead her into dangerous circumstance. But as Gaia reiterated each time they spoke, she had no alternative. Except to banish thoughts of Quintus from her heart and mind. No, their plan was flawless and she would have Petronia removed from Quintus' side as if she never occupied the space. _Lucretia_would then assume position of young Batiatus' wife.

She imagined walking through the grand villa perched atop the hillside, a cool breeze coming from the river Volturnus beyond the cliffs. She would command an army of slaves and mingle withCapua's elite as they begged to engage the finest gladiators in their games. And then, after a day full of luxuries beyond her imagination, she and her husband would share sultry moments in the darkness of night, exploring each other with touch and taste. Her hand moved down her stomach to the heated flesh below at the thought of Quintus inside her. Her resolve strengthened and her passion expressed, she called for Melitta.

In the quiet of the small villa, Melitta arranged her Domina's jewels upon a table, preparing for the festivities of the day, when Rufus suddenly grabbed her arm. The jewels fell in disarray upon the ground. "You imbecile!" She dipped to gather Lucretia's belongings when Rufus yanked her toward him.

"Sh!" He pulled her into a fervent kiss, embracing her tightly. She pulled her face away, her eyes wide with surprise. "Domina employs me to perform a duty whereby I may attain freedom."

"Melitta!" Lucretia called from the baths.

Melitta attempted to wrest herself from Rufus' arms but his strength was too great. "Listen!" He pleaded with a whimper, kissing her once more. "When I am free, I will work to gain enough coin to purchase you from Domina. And you and I will be together." He kissed her once more and released her. "We will be free." She stood stunned, her mouth plump and red from his advances.

The voice grew shrill. "Melitta!"

Melitta bolted from the room and came to her Domina's aid. "Apologies." She stammered, wrapping Lucretia in a robe. "My hands trembled and a tray bearing your jewels fell to the floor."

Lucretia barely noted Melitta's excuse; her mind overflowed with thoughts. "You can retrieve them when they are required. For now I would simply have you dress me that I may speak to my mother." Melitta bowed her head and busied herself with the task. Even as she pinned Lucretia's fiery red silk stola in cascades, her mind drifted to Rufus' kiss, his sinewy body pressed up against hers, the warmth of his mouth. She dared not ask Lucretia the nature of Rufus' assignment and she would not see the boy that day; she accompanied Domina to Gaia's home that afternoon. She never thought of Rufus as anything but a playmate with whom she passed idle moments. But she had also never been kissed and the memory of his touch lingered.

"What are you doing?" Lucretia asked her mother, closing the curtains at the entrance of her mother's chambers behind her; she sent Melitta to Gaia's home to arrange the bride's hair. Gratiana knelt in front of an open chest, clothes scattered on the floor around her.

"Tonight we celebrate Gaia's marriage with games. I am searching for a dress appropriate for the occasion." She held a green robe with silver trim to her body. "This is not too ornate for a widow, is it?"

"You will not attend the games." Lucretia moved closer to her mother, hovering over her at her full height. She inherited her long limbs from her father; her mother seemed diminutive in comparison. "You will remain in the villa."

Fear flashed in her mother's eyes, to be replaced by amusement. "Lucretia, you are constantly setting upon me to accompany you and on this day I –"

"On this day, I require your presence in the villa." Lucretia interrupted, pulling her shoulders back haughtily. Her form cast a long shadow over her mother, even as the older woman stood from her place.

"So you may freely seduce the son of Batiatus?" Gratiana grabbed her daughter's arm and shook her slightly, a gesture that always reminded Lucretia of how her mother would strike her when she was a child. "Do not take me for a fool. I saw the exchanges between you two. Despite having no family background and scraping by on what little coin your father left us, the one allure you do possess is your reputation. Do not see it sullied for lusty adventures with a married man."

Lucretia tried to move from her place but for a smaller woman, her mother was quite powerful. "My reputation _will_ remain impeccable. If you do not leave this villa tonight."

"What are you plotting? More schemes, crimes against the Gods?" She took her daughter by the chin and roughly pulled her face down. "Tell me! What sins do you plan to add to your list of offenses?"

"You always thought the worst of me, Mother!" Lucretia shouted, pushing her aside. Gratiana stumbled to the floor, suddenly scared for her safety. Lucretia took a deep breath and began to stroke the adornments sitting on her mother's table as she spoke. "A mother does recognize the beating of her child's heart better than any other. So despite my untainted past, perhaps you were right all along." She turned to her mother and noticed a string of gold and emerald beads around her throat. She advanced upon her and Gratiana could not help but cower. Lucretia gently pulled the necklace off her mother's neck and placed it over her own head. She admired herself in a mirror before walking out of her mother's room, leaving the frightened woman upon the dusty floor. "I am wicked. And I will possess all I desire."

Lucretia presented herself to Gaia later than expected, but the woman was distracted by her own elation. She pulled Lucretia into a deep kiss and giggled like a child. "Lucretia! What a surprising night I've had! Three times! The man I married may be old but he is far from feeble! I am exhausted!" She brought her friend into the main hall of Horatius' grand villa; the man departed earlier to prepare the arena for the festivities. Gaia finished arranging an assortment of brooches along her side when she noticed Lucretia sitting silently in the gilded chair, picking an imaginary speck from her gown. Gaia knelt before her friend and placed her forehead against Lucretia's face. "You can do this. Tomorrow reveals a completely changed woman with an unfathomable future. You must be strong to accomplish this." Gaia motioned to one of the many slaves milling about the villa. "Bring the palanquins."

The ease with which Gaia assumed mantle of the lady of the house of Avitus was impressive. Lucretia stood and straightened her back, though her energy felt spent in the effort. "This is… absolutely necessary."

Gaia linked arms with her friend for support and led her out of the villa. "Nothing of worth comes easily to a woman. She must fight for it."

Lucretia mounted the palanquin, barely noting the slave who attempted to help her in. "Of course."

Gaia raised her eyebrow, wondering if her friend took this risk simply at her own prodding. "Do you no longer desire the man?" Lucretia's head snapped up, eyes wide with intensity. "I presumed so."

Quintus pulled the colorful sash over his shoulder, positioning it in the fashion he observed in the younger, more affluent men of Capua. His father expected him to dress as an old man with a wife, but he would still attempt to impress Lucretia, if only to show her that he was a man worth wanting. Since their encounter, he attempted to put thoughts of having her out of his mind. Petronia entered his chamber, dressed in an ivory stola with thin gold threads along the edges. Plain, simple, homely Petronia.

"Do you require my assistance?" She asked, her chin resting upon her chest. She was not accompanying the Batiatus men to the arena; she claimed to have planned prayers to ensure the victory of their gladiators. Shit from her mouth, she did not come because the games did not interest her. Fine wife for a lanista.

Quintus eyed her, attempting to rouse some passion from within. Nothing. He felt nothing toward the woman who so humbly offered her services as a slave, but not as a wife. He tired of her and the contrast between Petronia and the sensual goddess Lucretia. And yet… if he was to keep his wits about him in Lucretia's presence, he would require some distraction.

"Remove your dress."

Petronia looked upon her husband with pleading eyes; he seemed to humiliate her every instant they were intimate and she dreaded his overtures. "Please, Quintus…"

"Please, yes. _Please_ your husband. Remove your dress and bend over the chaise. I would not look upon your face." He pulled his toga up and began to stroke his cock in anticipation of her approach.

She slipped out of the stola and shuddered as she obeyed his commands. He thrust himself deep inside her, breathing heavily against her neck. After a few strokes, he could fuck no longer; the smell of her hair now repulsed him. He pulled out of her instantly. She slid toward her stola and pulled it over her naked body, weeping as she did so.

Quintus winced at the display, injured by her tears and frustrated at their strained relationship. "We will die from this… animosity, you and I. You do not love me as I do not love you." With that, he left the chambers, joining his father at the gates as Petronia prepared for her prayers.

The arena swelled with numbers larger than expected when the women arrived. The crowd cheered Gaia's arrival, yet Quintus' eyes remained trained on Lucretia. The very sight of her snatched away his breath and fortified his cock despite the earlier exertion.

Solonius was seated next to the man and displayed some interest in the woman. "Who is that? She truly is a vision."

Quintus' blood boiled at the comment and yet he had no reason to burn. He was married and Lucretia was an eligible woman, well suited for Solonius. "Daughter of Gallus. Lucretia."

"Lucretia… Lovely creature. Is she wedded?" Solonius inquired, nodding at her politely. She nodded and smiled coyly; she did not know the man or his stature and would not risk offense.

"I believe she is spoken for; I cannot be sure. Look, Auctus takes the sands!" Quintus replied promptly, without thought. Solonius showed no signs of suspicion and turned his attention to his own man. Solonius would not approach the woman with the possibility of a preexisting betrothal; he lacked confidence. Quntinus quickly chided himself; why shouldn't Lucretia find happiness with an honorable man such as his good friend Solonius? One glance at her gave voice to the reason why: she is mine.

Lucretia stood from her place before the match began, pushing herself up with her arms. Her feet were unsteady and she felt faint. "If I may be excused, the hour is late and my mother is unwell."

The magistrate nodded with respect, keeping his eyes on the gladiators. "Of course. You are a dutiful child, Lucretia. The Gods will reward you." Quintus smiled at her but her response was strained. She resists to preserve her honor, he lamented, lowering his eyes to the sands.

"Gratitude." Lucretia remarked, bowing her way out of the pulvinus. She turned to Gaia, who clutched her hand tightly. "Melitta will remain with you; I have a slave to escort me home." Melitta showed concern, but Lucretia waved the girl away. She reluctantly released Gaia's hand and stepped out, unaccompanied, into the darkened streets of Capua. She cloaked herself in a black tattered covering, purchased at a small price from a beggar the previous day. She moved toward the road that led to the villa of Batiatus and waited for Rufus.

"Domina. A slave awaits audience with you." Naevia stood in the doorway of the prayer room of the house of Batiatus, her small frame nearly engulfed by the heavy curtains.

Petronia turned away from her worship, cleaning her hands with the hem of her robe. "I was not expecting a visit."

"He says it is a matter of urgency and will only speak to you." Naevia replied, explaining as best as she could. When she matured, her duties became more complex and she was eager to execute them with efficiency.

Petronia walked across the main hall and saw the figure of a man, his face obscured by the dark hood of his cloak. He peered up at her with large apologetic eyes. "Apologies for the late hour… and the clandestine nature of my visit."

Petronia felt slightly relieved at the pleasantness of the slave's appearance. With his pale skin and well-groomed hair, he could be a Roman citizen. Yet she kept to her suspicions. "What do you want?"

Rufus was nervous, but thoughts of having Melitta for himself strengthened his resolve. "Your husband and father-in-law have been cornered in the streets outside of the arena by my master, Ovidius, who is demanding payment toward a debt for some items your husband purchased unbeknownst to the elder Batiatus. If payment is not made this night, he will take brutal action. I have the unfortunate task of bringing you to this place with sufficient funds to placate the man. The debt needs not to be paid in full; enough coin to stay Ovidius' hands will satisfy."

Her heart beat ferociously in her chest in fear – of danger befalling the men of her family and the prospect of setting foot outside the villa with an unknown man. "I should take a slave-"

"I would advise against such measures." Petronia's suspicions reemerged; Rufus sensed it. He recalled the excuse Domina instructed him to use should Petronia make such a request. "I should not divulge this but… a slave of this house is conspiring with my master to set upon you in the streets and take the coin you bear to absolve the debt. When you arrive absent coin, my master will double his purse by demanding payment. I see you are a woman of honor and would not have you harmed."

Petronia looked about the villa and wrapped herself with her arms. She looked upon the boy, beautiful red curls, innocent brown eyes and pale, childlike skin splattered with freckles. "How could I trust you?"

"Trust your own heart when I say no harm will befall you on this night." Rufus knelt before Petronia; Domina did not ask him to do so, but freedom seemed to close at hand that he could not risk its loss. "I swear upon my life to Juno herself."

"Wait here." Petronia walked to her father-in-law's office and searched the room before finding a sack of coins hidden inside a flower pot. She shook away the soil, relieved that she remembered the hiding spots Titus revealed to her when she first came to the house. He trusted her more than his own son and she was grateful for the honor. She turned to Naevia and Diona, who scrubbed brass cups in the kitchen. "Speak to no one of this. I entrust you with the knowledge that I depart this night and will return shortly." She said as she wrapped a cloak over her plain stola.

They looked at each other in alarm – the lady of the household departing absent slaves? Yet they were too young to raise any concerns and both simply replied: "Domina."

Lucretia pulled the covering closer to her chin; a cool breeze swept through the alleys and chilled her bones. She could hear the cheers of the crowd as the Primus was announced and imagined the pride Quintus felt as his man took to the sands. Why did Petronia not lend support to her husband and his ludus during such important events? A woman as Petronia would stagnate a man's ambitions. Lucretia would elevate him higher than his father's accomplishments.

The soft but deep voice of Rufus was unmatched and Lucretia could hear him from the road beyond the inner city walls. "This way, my lady."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"Citizens of Capua!"

Horatius' deep voice echoed through the small arena, catching the attention of all present, except Melitta. The impudent blonde who ogled her at the house of Batiatus now stared lustfully through the gates of the stockades, where the gladiators awaited presentation. He stood beside Oenomaus, but distracted her from the more refined man. She knew the playful look in his eyes, the glint of mischief. Thoughts of her Rufus and his plans for freedom entered her mind; she feared the boy overreached his bounds. Even if he were granted freedom, Lucretia would never release such a prize from her grasp for any amount of coin he could procure. Melitta's skills were unrivaled and her chastity was a prized commodity. Melitta harbored no delusions of freedom; she would die under Lucretia's ownership. Gannicus had an allure to him; if they were free, she may have considered him attractive. Her devotion to duty sent eyes to Oenomaus, who offered her a quick smile no one else would notice. My fate would lie with a man of equal caliber, if not higher, she mused. Domina often mentioned gifting her virginity to a man of note, perhaps even a Roman citizen. Yet... in another life and in different circumstances...

"Your attendance in these games honors me, honors my forefathers and honors my beautiful new wife, Gaia!" The crowd cheered and Gaia relished the attention, tilting her head respectfully to the crowd. "My gratitude to you. And gratitude to the noble houses of good Solonius and good Batiatus in presenting two of the finest gladiators ever to terrorize this arena, to face each other sine missione - no quarter given, no mercy shown! Enter Oenomaus, murmillo, of the house of Titus Lentullus Batiatus!" Gannicus clamped his hand on his friend's shoulder, Oenomaus returned the gesture. It became their custom to bid each other farewell before each match, lest the other fall. "Enter Victorus, secutor, of the house of Marcus Decius Solonius!"

The crowd roared at the sight of the man - Victorus loomed nearly a foot above Oenomaus and the breadth of him seemed to cast a shadow over the torches surrounding the pulvinus. In a moment of doubt, Quintus was glad Lucretia was absent - if Oenomaus fell to Victorus, the defeat would embarrass Quintus beyond measure. The uneasiness passed and Quintus looked upon his man with renewed hope. "Victorus stands but tall; Oenomaus' skill in the arena has toppled many mountains."

"Indeed, the man possesses much skill... for a runt." Solonius joked and smiled jovially at Quintus. As always, when his friend made a jest at his expense ever so innocently, Quintus smiled tightly and remained silent, awaiting word from the editor of the games.

"Two titans stand before us, ready to spill blood upon sand at a gesture. But I crave a more savage display. My wife and I depart for Rome and this will be our last viewing in my beloved Capua, the city that bore me to such heights. I would have these men cleave at each other as butchers to the morning sacrifice, hacking away at flesh to expose bone." Guards marched into the arena and switched the gladiators' weapons - swords for semispathae and shields for pugnum shields. Their armor was then removed and taken back into the stockades; soon Oenomaus and Victorus stood in simple subligaria carrying little but knives and a small plate for protection. Quintus and Solonius shot each other weary glances but they dare not object to the replacements; the position of lanista bore the potential for many risks. "Where drops of blood would shed, I would bathe in showers!" The crowd roared in agreement and the men took position. Gaia looked anxiously at her new husband as he lowered his arm to begin the match.

"Horatius, my love, you made no prior mention of leaving Capua." The match began to the pleasure of the anxious crowd but Gaia did not watch. Melitta's attention was split; she favored Lucretia's mood while around Gaia's unfailing wit. In loneliness, Lucretia was cruel. But to see Oenomaus thus exposed to injury also shook her heart. Her eyes were trained on the dueling men, ears on Gaia's plea.

"I was only recently made privy of an opportunity for business with Senator Albinius… Our courtship has cost me much coin and I must seek replenishment from some avenue." Gaia turned to her husband with surprise; he responded with a cold gaze. "Do not mistake me, Gaia. A man of my age would not gain favor with a woman of your considerable beauty without investment. And a man of position and coin such as myself would not give a second glance to a woman with your reputation unless you possessed such obvious charms." The sounds of the arena caught Horatius' attention for a moment and he returned focus to the games, waving his hand dismissively at Gaia. "You will enjoy Rome."

Oenomaus slashed at Victorus, cutting into the man's arm and leaping through the air with calculated grace. Gaia stared at her husband as if he were a stranger. She gathered her wits and attempted to dazzle Horatius with a smile, a trick that he once was powerless to resist. "Undoubtedly. However, my darling Lucretia is newly returned to Capua and-"

Horatius' harsh glare silenced her and she felt the blood leave her fingertips. "You raise another concern bearing upon my heart. You are now the wife of Horatius Marianus Avitus, you have been elevated and association with a woman of such a lowly position would be unwise. Our departure to Rome will serve dual purpose in raising our status far beyond this piss-filled village."

Gaia's face flushed red at Horatius' dismissal; Victorus slashed into Oenomaus' chest, sending thick drops of blood unto the crowd, and the man growled in pain. "You mistake this city… and Lucretia; she may be of low birth but her virtue-"

Victorus kicked Oenomaus in the abdomen and he fell back, sending tufts of sand into the night air. Melitta gasped in spite of herself, but no one noticed her reaction. Horatius leaned toward his wife menacingly; his once kind face seemed to morph into a monstrous mask. "She trades seductive glances with a married man and you speak of virtue? I am not as blind as Titus. I see her for who she is and I would remove you from such indecent influence. And I will not discuss this further. Now, turn thoughts to the primus that honors our union and speak _no more_."

Gaia sat back in her chair, rubbing her arms against the sudden shiver she felt darting down her spine. Melitta pitied the woman for a moment; Gaia was always unusually kind to Melitta and the other slaves; it seemed that a free woman was not afforded freedom in the realm of men, the word lost its meaning. As Victorus advanced upon the fallen man, Oenomaus glanced up to the pulvinus, into the fear and pity in Melitta's eyes. In an instant, he bounded to his feet, thrusting his short sword into the air. He caught Victorus in the throat and methodically slashed through, even as Victorus groped the air to stop him, cutting into Oenomaus' shoulders. Dense sprays of red spread over those watching, droplets striking even the men in the pulvinus, as Oenomaus sawed his opponent's head off with the semispatha. Gaia attempted to give Quintus a congratulatory look as the crowd burst into celebration, but Quintus could sense her discomfort. Oenomaus raised his short sword and shield to the pulvinus, looking squarely at Melitta. She attempted to smile, but her heart still worried for Rufus. Where is he?

"This way, my lady."

Petronia walked cautiously through the darkened streets of her hometown, streets that remained very unfamiliar to her. Her family always feared the loss of their daughter's virtue and kept a constant watchful eye under their roof. To roam the alleyways with a strange man would have caused them to piss themselves, she thought. Surprised at the vulgarity of her own musings, she wondered if perhaps after this night, Quintus would admire her boldness and look upon her favorably. Perhaps, she could resolve their shared animosity and cultivate liking… maybe even love.

Lucretia heard spectators begin to leave the arena, buzzing about Oenomaus' victory and yawning from exertion and drink. Quintus and his father would be of the last to leave as they received congratulations; the streets would then be virtually empty. Rufus found the red mark Lucretia made upon the corner of a building and stopped walking.

A few quiet moments passed as both Petronia and Rufus attempted a ruse of ease. "Why do we stop?" Petronia finally asked, mustering up some courage.

"Do not be troubled, Domina. Ovidius will arrive shortly to collect the payment." Rufus consoled the woman with a pleasant smile. "You are truly a brave woman, to invite such peril for the sake of your family."

She simply nodded but his sincerity did bring some comfort to the knots in her stomach. She leaned against a wall to relieve the pain and patiently waited.

Lucretia hid herself in the shadows upon hearing Quintus and his father rounding a corner. The heavy black cloak she purchased when acquiring a new gown for the games was suitable for such discretion. And the dagger she kept close to her ribs offered protection against the villains of the night. Her plans were in motion and the thought of success excited her, causing blood to course faster and faster in her veins.

"Our man Oenomaus has brought us much honor this day; the victory has rejuvenated the spent bones of this tired old man!" Titus exclaimed, ruffling his son's short locks. Lucretia's heart swelled with pride; Quintus was so contented with his father's pleasant mood. Victory. Victory for the house of Batiatus. No... Victory for my Quintus. She looked back at Petronia, who was still well outside earshot and would not hear them. She signaled to Rufus and he began to move deeper into the shadows of the alleyway, preparing to spring their trap.

"Quintus!" Lucretia turned to see Solonius rushing to catch up to the Batiatus men. He embraced them both laughingly. "I must congratulate you both once again upon your victory."

Quintus laughed, obviously well swayed with drink, and grasped his friend's forearm firmly. "Fortuna so quickly shifts her mood; perhaps Solonius will find himself victorious next our men take the sands."

Solonius beamed with delight and took both men by the arms. "Your words warm my heart; I would see you two warmed with drink. My villa is but a short distance from here." He began to lead the pair away from their path.

Lucretia's heart stopped at the suggestion. Quintus and Titus were supposed to walk home, she thought in a panic. They were supposed to discover Petronia standing alone in the street with a sack of coins. Rufus would fade into the shadows and conceal himself in the vacant house marked in crimson. There is a plan in motion. _A plan_!

Titus resisted Solonius' coaxing. "We would not intrude at such an hour, good Solonius!"

"It would be my honor; you offend our friendship at mention of intrusion. Lest my ears deceive, Titus, you were relating to Quintus how the match energized you. I would take advantage, ply you with drink and steal secrets for future winnings!" The men laughed at Solonius' jest and relented, heading toward his villa.

"Where is your master? The hour grows late and I am fearful for my safety!"

Lucretia's head spun at the comment: Petronia wants to leave. They will not see her in the streets, holding the sack of coins, standing alone. No accusations will fly, no fingers pointed. Why else would a woman of note stand in an abandoned alley absent servants with so much dinare on hand? Quintus would seize the chance to rid himself of the woman if he had cause; Petronia, being an honorable woman, would have no skill in distortion and her excuse would seem so weak and false. But now they walk away. Away from the trap mapped by Lucretia's hand. Quintus would remain married to the whey-faced woman lolling about against the wall of the building, foolishly expecting a man who would not come.

The thought inflamed Lucretia and she boldly stepped out of the shadows. "Petronia."

Petronia squinted to recognize the woman in black, then recoiled in disgust. "Lu... Lucretia? Why are you here? And at this hour?"

Lucretia could not hear her words as she walked toward the woman menacingly. Rufus crouched behind a barrel. Not a single soul walked the streets; night hung heavy in the air and morning's cold wetness slowly began to seep in. "Would you leave him?" She circled behind Petronia, stroking the woman's back as she moved. "If you knew a woman more suited to his nature, who loved him, would accept him... would you dissolve your marriage?"

Petronia backed away from Lucretia, only to stumble on a stack of crates. She struggled to find her balance, but her eyes were locked with the other woman. "I do not have that power. But... even if I did, I would not surrender him, e-e-especially not to you."

Lucretia displayed an evil smirk, feeling the tension unravel in her muscles. She moved fluidly toward Petronia, placing her cheek against the woman's face. She smelled of incense and skin; the woman did not even bother with perfumes. Lucretia trailed her lips along Petronia's jawline, searching for Quintus' scent. "Why? What is wrong with me?"

Petronia pushed the taller woman away and turned to run; Rufus reluctantly stepped forward to block her escape. She looked at him pleadingly but recognized the fear in his eyes and knew he would do nothing. She turned back to confront Lucretia. "You have no shame. You openly solicit a married man. I see the malice in your eyes and I would not subject my aging father-in-law to such treachery. Quintus already has his flaws; a wife of virtue and honor would steer him in the proper direction. You would only plunge him to his death."

"You will not leave?" Lucretia asked, exasperated by the woman's pontificating, and trapped Petronia against a wall.

Her voice trembled but her resolve was firm. "Save upon a funeral pyre as ashes in the wind."

"As you wish." Lucretia thrust the dagger into Petronia's belly once, feeling the wound suck at the blade as she pulled it out. Petronia's eyes were wide with horror as she touched her belly and saw the blood trickle down her fingers. Lucretia hated her for her weakness and angrily stabbed her once more. Petronia fell back and Lucretia knelt by her side, the blood leaving no mark upon the blackness of her garment.

Petronia's eyes welled with tears as she witnessed the puddle of blood she lay in grow in size. "Why?" She whispered, looking for Rufus. He hid himself from the sight to vomit.

Lucretia smelled the blood and meat, and nearly gagged. She placed a fingertip upon Petronia's chin and tilted her head up gently. "Because he deserves better than you, Petronia. He deserves me." She sliced the woman's throat with one arcing blow and lay her head gently back on the stone street. Lucretia then snatched the sack of coins, spilled some around Petronia's body for display and pocketed the rest. Rufus returned wiping his mouth against his sleeve, his pale face tinged with a green-ish hue. Lucretia insistently motioned for the boy to follow her.

Rufus trembled as he climbed up the hill with his Domina, who practically ran ahead of him. She is dead. She is dead, _dead_, _dead_. The word repeated over and over in his head with every thud of every heavy step. "Move quickly; what impedes your climb?" His Domina snapped, standing at the edge of the cliff behind Batiatus' villa.

The words poured uncontrollably from his mouth and the tremors worsened. "If someone were to discover this deed... I am sick at the thought. What punishment awaits us, awaits me? As a Roman woman, _you_ would be shown some leniency." He wrapped himself in his arms, attempting to stand still. "I am doomed. Domina, you promised me freedom for the simple task of deceit. You made no mention of murder!"

Lucretia slapped him across the face; the density of the blow surprised him. His pale skin throbbed and reddened. "I am your Domina! You will do whatever the fuck I please, you shit!" His tremors ceased and he quickly straightened himself. Lucretia peered at him, seeming to analyze every curve in his face. She unexpectedly flashed him a sweet smile and placed her hand upon the cheek she struck. "I understand your predicament, Rufus. Simply assist me with this and I swear to the Gods I will set you free."

"Truly, Domina?" A glimmer of hope shined in the boy's tearing eye.

Lucretia handed him the dagger and held his hand reassuringly. "As a bird soaring through the open air."

He nodded and moved to obey his Domina. "Apologies for my outburst. She seemed... a kind woman." Rufus threw hard, sending the dagger far from the cliffs, directly into the river. He pushed the rags used to clean Lucretia's hands over the edge and glanced about the ground. "There, those were the last of it."

"Not the last, give me your cloak." Lucretia stripped naked, her body glowing in the twilight. Her palms were scrubbed pink; only a slight residue of blood remained upon her skin. "Here, discard this." Rufus kept his eyes closed out of respect and blindly approached the abyss below, guiding himself with his toes. He suddenly felt the warmth of his Domina flush against his back and his eyes popped open with a start. "Do you think you can fly?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"This is a glorious fucking night!"

Quintus bellowed loudly, arms outstretched, head tilted toward the fading moon. Titus laughed despite himself; one thing he admired about his son was his appreciation for celebration. Titus felt inflated in his son's presence, but the compliments were always regarded with caution, lest appreciation give way to hubris. "My son has allowed the wine to usurp self-control."

"Ah, could you deny the boast, Father? Our gladiators give grand showings in front of the magistrate himself, each one crushing their opponent, flinging them head first into the underworld. I feel as though upon this night, we embark on a blessed journey toward further influence and success." Quintus clumsily poured wine into Solonius' cup, even as the man protested. "To be shared with truest friends."

Solonius attempted to stand and embrace Quintus, but the drink convinced him otherwise. "Sentiment to warm the heart. More wine does the same." He yawned and leaned back on the chaise, stretching his limbs.

Titus noted the display and looked out the window to the pink line forming on the horizon. "Quintus, I am afraid we have overstayed our welcome."

Solonius quickly straightened his spine, realizing his mistake, and beckoned a slave. "Nonsense, good Batiatus, ample wine yet remains in my stores."

"Would you have us drain the lot?" Quintus jested as his father rose with difficulty; he was never accustomed to late nights but the old bond between the two ludi fortified him to endure this rare occasion. "Gratitude for your hospitality. Your friendship is always appreciated, yet the new day quickly arrives and rusted bones require rest." Titus tsked, but offered no words of protest.

Solonius embraced both men and held them at arm's length in affection. "My heart swells with pride for the house of Batiatus this day."

Quintus placed a hand upon his friend's shoulder. "Your praise brings equal joy to _our_ hearts. Soon we too will rejoice in the roars of the crowds, shaking the very foundations of the arena - clamoring for good Solonius."

Quintus pulled his father's arm over his shoulder as they slowly made their way back to the villa. The city was not yet awake; the crowds of Capua lay in their beds, filled with drink and drained of energy from the games. Quintus enjoyed the silence of the city as much as the uproar; thoughts flowed more freely and with greater efficiency when he could not hear a sound in the abandoned streets. His mind drifted to Lucretia once more, as it often did of late. His obsession surprised him; as a younger man, he did observe and covet but he rarely felt inspired enough to indulge his fantasies past a casual fuck. His ambitions toward Lucretia ran deeper and bore more meaning. Enough for him to lie to valued friend Solonius, a man who could not easily come by a suitable wife due to his socially awkward conduct, his meekness, his hesitation. Yet Quintus felt no guilt in depriving the man of Lucretia; if Solonius pursued, she would devour him yet breathing.

The slave walking ahead of Quintus and his father suddenly stopped in the small alleyway that led out to the hill beyond the main city walls. "Dominus." He whispered, his voice choked in his throat.

Quintus passed his father to the other slave and drew his dagger as he approached the sight that thus frightened his man. At first, he thought clothes had fallen from a hanging line above them and startled the slave. Then he noticed the hair. Plain, brown hair dipped in black red. A pale scrawny calf splattered with blood caught the dim light of a faded lantern. And as he approached, the familiar scent of strong, smoky incense. Suddenly, a chill shot down his back.

"Move away – Quintus, what do you see?" Titus pushed forward and looked with curiosity at the mound of cloth, hair, flesh and blood. Quintus knelt at the shoulder and turned the body over.

"Petronia!" Titus gathered the girl into his lap, releasing a pouch and five denari from her hand. He stroked the hair from her stained face as a father to his injured child, a caress with which Quintus was not familiar. Even through his shock, the sight disturbed him.

"Petronia… here? At this hour?" Quintus stroked the girl's cheek; her flesh was still warm. Her empty eyes stared up at him in a still plea and he pushed her lids shut with care, wincing at the lifelessness in her skin. "And how did she come by this coin?"

Titus reached for the pouch with hesitance, shaking the soil from the fabric. He inspected it closely before revealing its origin. "This… is coin I kept hidden in my study. The pouch contained well over 400 denari." He threw the pouch aside as if it caused him offense.

Quintus tightened his jaw in anger as he instinctively covered his wife's naked leg. "400 denari? You concealed coin from my grasp? And my wife was made privy of its existence?"

Titus turned sharply to his son and clutched the girl to his chest. "Yes. The purpose was to give my daughter-in-law means to rescue you from bloodthirsty debtors after my passing... And now only few coin remain." Titus stood slowly, lowering Petronia's head delicately upon the cobblestones. He looked at the blood spreading along the hem of his toga. "Why would she leave her home absent slaves laden with so much coin?"

Quintus stared at his dead wife lying in the sticky pool and the memory of Lucretia flashed in his mind. Could she have… no, of course not. He constricted his hands into fists. "The answer is simple."

Titus read the meaning in his son's eyes and scoffed halfheartedly. "You are a fool to consider such a possibility."

Quintus picked up the empty coin pouch and threw it angrily at the old man's feet. "If you can divine a more morally fucking pleasing possibility, please share." Quintus glared disdainfully at the corpse, feeling slighted by its very presence. "That entire pretense… all her praying, shit-eating and scraping, masking such decadent intention. Stolen denari to run off with... whoever clearly robbed her blind."

Titus rested upon a wall, shaking his head in denial. The fatigue caused knees to sway. "Petronia's father was a friend; he assured me of her virtue upon agreeing to your marriage."

Quintus commenced wrapping Petronia in his cloak, lowering his voice to avoid detection. "And no men deceive?"

Titus gathered himself and stood upright with purpose. "Collect the body and send for good Iunius. We will have words." The slaves worked quickly; the blood was wiped away and covered with dirt before the first Capuan walked through the cursed alley that morning. The body was removed to the villa.

Iunius and Tacita walked through the main doors of the house of Batiatus still drowsy with sleep; a few moments passed before they realized what lay on the table before them. "Petronia!" Iunius gasped, rushing to his daughter's side.

Tacita touched her daughter's cold face with her fingertips before lunging forth, kissing Petronia's face in a futile attempt to wake her. "No, no, no..." Iunius wrapped his arm around his wife, who screamed in pain as if the touch burned her skin.

Iunius finally noticed Titus and his son standing in the shadows; only two slaves attended them. "How did this dark deed befall our child?" He demanded angrily.

Titus bowed his head mournfully, but Quintus would not bear to remain silent. "Perhaps the answer to this question lies with you?"

Titus struck her son's arm with anger, approaching Iunius to comfort him. "Quiet, Quintus!"

Quintus grabbed his father's arm to stop him from embracing the man. "I will speak! For I have been wronged." He moved closer to Iunius, who stood rigidly in place. "I find my wife lifeless in the streets at an unbecoming hour, robbed of a considerable amount of coin." Iunius looked at his son-in-law with widened eyes; Tacita's weeping dimmed to hear the men speak. "It begs a very serious question."

Iunius took a deep, shaking breath to compose himself before calmly responding. "I would have you speak plainly, Quintus."

"Did Petronia love another?" Iunius furrowed his brow, as if the notion was preposterous. His expression offered no comfort to Quintus. "As I often suspected. The way she abhorred my touch, cringing when we made love. The fact now confirmed - she never loved me."

Iunius slowly shook his head, feeling his resolve tremble. Tacita sensed her husband's weakening and rose to stand firmly by his side. Titus always recognized Tacita's inner strength and hoped to see a similar trait manifest in Petronia. "I swear by Juno our daughter was chaste!"

Titus attempted to calm nerves, speaking sympathetically to the mournful parents. "We understand, Tacita. However, this... unpleasantness does not behoove the honor of either house. We will share this indignity."

"What path would you suggest to cleanse ourselves?" Iunius asked, as Titus led them to a bench and offered wine to his guests. Iunius drank the entire cup in one gulp.

Tacita sat still with the cup yet unsipped in her lap, providing the men time to ponder the possibilities before speaking. "If I am permitted... my sons have long called upon us to live with them in Macedonia. We can leave for the ports this very morning and spread word in all of Capua that we dissolved Petronia's marriage."

The men nodded solemnly in agreement and Iunius took his wife's hand in gratitude. "We will tell her brothers she perished on the road to Macedonia. And her name remains untarnished."

"Thus ours as well." Quintus finally relented and drew Iunius in an embrace. The man broke down in tears in Quintus' arms, the actuality of his daughter's death suddenly breaking his heart.

Tacita placed hand upon Titus' shoulder. The still intensity in her eyes both impressed and scared him. "Gratitude for your discretion."

Oenomaus was summoned to assist in the girl's secret funeral; the others were locked away for the rest of the morning. He placed her body atop the pyre – both were soaked in accelerants. The families prayed to the Gods for forgiveness, but the quicker her body burned, the quicker they could dispose of the ashes over the cliff. Oenomaus often regarded the woman with much respect for her dedication to the honor and prosperity of the house of Batiatus. How can he ask for a wife now, with the memory of betrayal fresh in Quintus' mind? He said a quick prayer over the woman's body, asking the Gods to forgive her transgressions. His request for a wife would be delayed in light of such a tragedy. And he no longer desired a wife - he ached to share his heart fully with a woman of honor and grace. If Petronia could not be trusted, could any lesser woman? He thought of the woman from the stands - what treachery could she commit against him?

"Clear this fog in my mind, Tacita. _Did_ our daughter love another?"

Tacita sat in a carriage with her husband on the road to Macedonia after witnessing her daughter's ashes cast in the wind, wafting over the rocks below the cliffs. Slaves were dispatched to empty their home; advocates were summoned to sell their property. Their life in Capua neatly disposed. She stared out of the gauzy panel at the city she called home for nearly 20 years. "Many years ago, there was a man she adored from afar… yet she took to her role as wife dutifully and put him from mind, as all women do in light of adulthood responsibility. She may not have loved Quintus for all his flaws but she honored him and his house." She turned to her husband, choosing to face him as she revealed her painful secret. "Iunius, our daughter was with child." The creases in her husband's face deepened; how he had aged in the course of just a few hours. "I visited her two days ago; she informed me that she only waited for confirmation from a medicus. What cause would she have to flee with a child in carry?"

Iunius pondered a moment, and then drew his wife close to him. "Keep this knowledge to yourself. We must leave this place unencumbered by such plaguing thoughts."

Tacita nodded in reluctant agreement, her eyes filling with fresh tears. "Our daughter is dead, Iunius."

"May those who took part in her demise share a similar fate." Iunius hissed, his sorrow giving way to anger.

"No, Iunius… I wish them life." He looked at his wife with surprise and watched as her beautiful features contorted into a hateful grimace. "A cursed, tormented life. To have every happiness snatched from their grasp just as they reach out to claim it."

Lucretia sat alone in the darkened room, her knees drawn under her chin; she ordered Melitta to close heavy drapes over every opening in her chambers, casting everything into shadow. Three days passed since the night of the games and she did not leave the villa. She received no one; not even Gaia, who had yet to call upon her. Melitta brought her food to eat and water to cleanse herself, but was otherwise forbidden to enter. Melitta ached to ask her Domina of Rufus' whereabouts, but did not dare inquire given Lucretia's mood - it was as foul as the stifled air in the room.

Lucretia required privacy. Slaves do not fear masters driven to madness. And madness so aptly described her state. She heard Petronia hurl accusations from all corners of the villa. "I see the malice in your eyes." Petronia hissed from the looking glass. "You have no shame." She whispered from a bowl of water.

"You will plunge him to his death."

The voice startled Lucretia; it seemed to come from behind her but when she turned, no one was there. She gripped her head and stifled a scream of frustration. "Get the fuck away from me." She whispered back.

"Why?" The voice asked, breath cold as ice upon her neck. She turned once more. Again, nothing.

"Because… I have done nothing wrong." She growled, clenching her fists around her hair, a few strands pulled free from their roots. "I've done nothing wrong."

"Domina?" The voice called out. Lucretia looked up to see Melitta with an expression of concern upon her once comforting face. "Apologies, I did not mean to disturb. Gaia has arrived."

Lucretia glanced up at her reflection in the looking glass. Her face was swollen, her hair tangled and her clothes were disheveled. "Seat her in the main hall. I will come." Lucretia quickly pulled her hair into a severe bun and secured it with pins. She changed into a fresh gown that had been sitting for three days upon a chair, ready for use. She doused herself with perfume to mask the smell of three days. She again looked into the glass; she did not look herself, but she no longer seemed deathly ill.

"Lucretia!" Gaia embraced her friend and kissed her on the mouth passionately, drawing Lucretia's dry lower lip between her teeth. "You have succeeded. The entire city buzzes with news – Petronia and her parents have left Capua to join her brothers in Macedonia. Quintus' marriage is dissolved. You have your victory!" Gaia inspected Lucretia's sunken pale face lolling between her hands. "Are you not pleased?" Lucretia suddenly began to tremble and swoon. "Melitta! Fetch water!" Gaia grasped Lucretia's hand and shook her to awaken her from her stupor.

Lucretia sank into a chair and clutched her fist to her chest, trying to regain senses. "Tell Melitta to stay away."

Gaia protested, touching Lucretia's forehead to check for fever. "But Lucretia-!"

"Fucking tell her!" Lucretia barked, gasping for air. The words she wished to speak sat as a heavy stone upon her chest and she would push it off with the last bits of strength she possessed.

The slave girl appeared and Gaia unwillingly waved her away. "Melitta, grant us privacy." Melitta nodded respectfully and walked away, still watching her Domina from the corner of her eye as she left to assist Vesta in the kitchen. "Speak, please. I will die of worry." Gaia entreated.

Lucretia found her voice and forced herself to part lips and share burden with Gaia. "The marriage was not dissolved. Petronia is dead." Lucretia covered her face with her hands. "She is dead."

"How?" Gaia lowered Lucretia's hands from her face and clearly read Lucretia's expression: the guilt mixed with fear of judgment. The realization hit Gaia like the cold breeze that signals the coming of snow. Petronia is dead. She fumbled for reasoning, grasping Lucretia's shoulders in desperation. "You must have had good reason to… Lucretia, you are not evil! Do not place blame upon your own bosom lest it crush you. It was a necessity." Lucretia began to weep, shaking her head. Gaia ran her hands over Lucretia's head, the slick of filth in Lucretia's unwashed hair upon her hands. "Of course it was!"

Lucretia became defensive despite Gaia's words, shrinking away from her friend like a frightened animal cornered by a beast of prey. "Quintus and his father drew so close and his friend led them away. Petronia was leaving. She was leaving! What would you have me do?"

Gaia pulled Lucretia's waist forward to straighten the woman's back. "What was absolutely necessary. Oh, Lucretia." Gaia embraced the trembling woman and for a moment, neither woman uttered a word. Lucretia then pulled away still holding Gaia's hand, hoping Gaia would somehow rescue her.

"I sank blade into flesh as easily as one sinks teeth into bread..." Lucretia looked away from Gaia; she could not stand the pity in her friend's eyes. She buried her face into Gaia's shoulder, frantically searching for comfort. "I did not believe myself capable of such a thing. To stain my hands with the blood of... I was a shell inhabited by a cruel God."

"The Gods _are_ cruel. Why else would they destine so much tragedy in a single week?" Lucretia lifted hesitant gaze to meet Gaia's tearful eyes. Gaia loathed herself for bearing such depressing news at a time when her friend only desired peace, but her husband's slave impatiently waited outside the gates of Lucretia's villa. "Horatius and I are leaving Capua. He dissolves all assets here to pursue ventures in Rome."

Lucretia cringed from Gaia, feeling betrayed. "You would leave me?" She whispered incredulously. "At such an hour of need?"

"If choice were mine, I would never part from your side!" Gaia reached out for Lucretia, who stood from her place and turned her back to Gaia's plea. "My husband has issued decree. And I must obey."

Lucretia knelt before Gaia and traced the curves of her face, unable to resist the powerlessness in Gaia's voice. She kissed Gaia's earlobe gently, knowing her reaction to the caress. "To see you leave... it would end me. Do you know how much love I bear for you in my heart?"

"Not more than the love I bear for you." Gaia kissed Lucretia on her lips chastely and withdrew; she could feel the slave's eyes upon her. Horatius would learn of the kiss. She gave no shit - it was her final expression of love. "I do not have much time. Horatius makes many demands of me and as the wife of a man of influence, I have many duties." Gaia rose from her seat and nodded to the slave, who now waited within the walls of the villa. She embraced Lucretia close to her body, memorizing her scent. "I will write to you." She whispered and turned away without meeting Lucretia's forlorn gaze.

"Gaia..." The woman turned to Lucretia; the space between them already felt like a deep chasm over which neither of them could ever cross. Even in Terracina, Lucretia never felt so alone. "What if my plan does not come to fruition? What if this grievous act was for naught?"

Gaia mustered her strength and smiled widely at Lucretia, adopting an optimistic tone overflowing with gaiety and hope. "He does want you. Exercise patience and he will come." With those words, Gaia turned and left.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

She sauntered slowly toward him, curvaceous hips oscillating as she approached. With each step, the slit in her crimson gown revealed more porcelain skin, the gap inching toward the focus of his intent. Lustrous brown curls danced around her décolletage, begging him to notice the perfectly formed breasts and aroused dark pink nipples visible through the translucent fabric. The twinkle in her eyes hinted a secret wisdom and guile; they invited him to freely explore every inch of the woman. He reached out to rip away the flimsy cloth, to unveil-

"Quintus!"

"Fuck my ass." He grumbled, noting the sun's glare through gossamer curtains fluttering about the window - midday was fast approaching. Six days passed since the death of his wife and upon each night, Quintus was haunted by vivid dreams, graphic fantasies of wild indiscretions with the object of his carnal desire. Statuesque, strong, flawless Lucretia. His only obstacle to possessing her was removed in a way that he would not express sorrow. Petronia's deceit neither deeply wounded him nor caused him any lingering grief; they shared no intimacies, no love, no passion. And his desire for Lucretia was more ignited now than ever before.

Quintus stumbled from bed - dreams had so consumed his life, he lost interest in dealings of the waking world. Titus kept a watchful eye on his son as if he were a poised serpent baring fangs. Quintus was aware of his father's suspicion regarding Petronia's death, but with no evidence to his culpability, the blame was speculation only.

Titus looked upon his son with a familiar expression of disapproval – his appearance was disheveled and ill-prepared to meet his costumer. Titus reminded himself to re-administer the lengthy lecture on presenting one's best to potential investors. "Quintus, good Appius has set mind toward retaining our men in his upcoming games; give orders to Doctore to display the men to the square and prepare exhibition to facilitate his choice."

"Welcome. Of course, Father." Quintus nodded respectfully but did not waste more words on the thin framed man with the artificial smile at his father's side; he was of little social consequence and known to be quite miserly. Quintus unenthusiastically discharged his task and the men assembled in full form.

Appius leaned forward, peering over the balcony at the gladiators, coated in sand and sweat. He has no eye for quality - Quintus sneered and yawned despite attempts to mask his disinterest. Titus shot him a scowl; Quintus shrugged apologetically. "I would see two of your lesser gladiators battle each other." Appius waved a slim-fingered hand in indifference and looked at Quintus teasingly. "I hear you have lost your wife. My sympathies."

Quintus' jaw muscles clenched as he restrained himself from biting the man's nose off. "It was to our benefit. We were of unequal temperament and she was unhappy in this home." You nasty little shitfuck.

"Oh, she must have been, to risk such shame." The man was intentionally prodding him to burst; Appius was petty and mean even when, as children, they played together in Capua's courtyards.

Quintus smiled bitterly. "I cannot speak ill of her; she was an honorable woman. Perhaps... the fault lies with me." Titus nodded with surprised approval.

"So the deficit is in you? Most intriguing." Before Quintus could protest, Appius halted the exhibition and turned to exit the villa. "I will take those two and five of the same stock. Shall we negotiate terms at your convenience?"

"As you wish." Titus accompanied the man to the gates, glad to be rid of him but appreciative of the business his ludus received. He put a firm hand on Quintus' shoulder and guided him to the main hall. "I applaud your defense of Petronia. However, Appius' loose tongue is well known. He will defame you to every man and woman in Capua with an ear eagerly bent to listen."

"I only hoped Petronia's name remain unsullied. Such vicious gossip could be curtailed if I wedded another." Quintus mentioned, feigning nonchalance.

A slave offered Titus his honeyed wine; he nodded at the slave with a smile. While his son never satisfied his standards, the loyalty of his slaves brought him some meager comfort. "Hm, the idea is pleasing but not readily executed. At the moment, Capua is in short supply of women suitable for marriage."

"I know of one ripe for choosing." Titus' head jerked up in consternation and Quintus breathed in deeply, fortifying himself for battle. "Lucretia. Daughter of Gallus."

Titus paused a moment, then scoffed at his son for the absurd suggestion. "I would risk infamy! Have you lost your senses? The girl has no family background, is reputed to barely possess coin to sustain her own house, indulges in visibly expensive tastes and has poor choice of friends. No." Titus turned, overseeing the ludus his purpose as he issued his decree. "I will search for a new bride in Paestum- your mother's family yet resides there and may provide guidance in the matter."

Quintus took his father's arm gently but, at a chastising glare, removed his hand. "Apologies. I have sampled your choice in women, Father, and found it lacking. Lucretia is of suitable position and breeding for this _lowly_ lanista."

Titus growled reproachfully; with age, the rumble seemed to emanate from deep in his lungs. "Our house is not yet so disgraced. I see in her eyes-"

"She is lively and engaging." Quintus interrupted to curb his father's ranting. "A baser man may misconstrue her demeanor as flirtatious and inappropriate. But she is virtuous."

Titus crossed his arms in intimidation, a ploy that would usually cause Quintus to step down from an argument. "Well, I refuse."

His son stepped forward, straightening his shoulders and planting his feet firmly into the ground. No part of him trembled or faltered; his desire for Lucretia quieted his nerves and kept him steady. "I offer a simple choice, Father. Lucretia becomes my wife or I will never wed. I swear it."

"Quintus!" Titus grabbed his son's shoulders, hoping to shake the notion from his mind. Quintus never spoke to his father so forcefully and his demeanor startled Titus.

Quintus broke free of his father's grasp, knocking over a large vase in the effort. Titus fell back on a chaise; his knees buckled and he could not stand. "Enough! I have suffered at your hand, Father. Forced to marry a woman of such ill breeding that she would betray the vows she pledged to her husband. To this house! A woman who would recoil at the very thought of her husband's touch. No more! Disloyalty will not be tolerated! Despite her material shortcomings, Lucretia will be loyal to her husband and to the house of Batiatus, this I know. Your false judgment of Petronia led to her death. Would you see the fate of this house follow?"

Titus sat up in his chair, regaining his composure. "How are you so certain of her virtues? Did you exchange vows with the girl before the death of your wife? What role did you play in Petronia's demise?"

"Would I be so injured by her deceit if I myself plotted her death?" Quintus spat, thrusting his chest forward in defiance. "You are as always so quick to condemn your own son. Now I point finger at you, Father. Marry me to Lucretia. Or to no one at all."

"Domina? A man arrived to see your mother – you asked to be alerted of all visitors." Vesta stood outside of Lucretia's room as Lucretia brushed her hair carefully in the looking glass. Lucretia yet spent her days locked in the villa but was more industrious than before, ordering milk baths, scented oil massages and primping herself for display to guests that never arrived. Until now.

Lucretia stood and quickly adjusted her gown; Melitta, who sat by her side at all times in the same quiet anticipation, coiled her Domina's hair. "Where is my mother?"

Vesta did not move to assist; Lucretia's contempt for Gratiana rendered the woman unmotivated. Vesta dedicated herself to the house and to Gratiana but never to the younger Gallus. "She was summoned; she breaks words with the man."

"You simple cunt! I was to be alerted before my mother!" Lucretia hissed angrily and rushed past Vesta to the main hall; the sight of her guest stopped her breath. "Greetings, good Batiatus." Quintus was notably absent; her eyes yearned for him… as did the rest of her untouched body.

Titus sat impassively in the most uncomfortable chair in the room, as if he chose his place intent on resisting relaxation. He barely nodded at the girl and shifted focus to Gratiana. "This discussion does not concern you, child. You would do best to wait in your chambers while your mother and I hold conference."

"As you wish." Lucretia bowed submissively and re-entered her room. She grabbed Melitta's arm excitedly and dragged her to the far corner of her chambers; days earlier, the pair fashioned a small crevice in the wall, which was obscured by heavy brocade drapery. Lucretia stood and shifted the covering - through the opening, sights and sounds in the main hall were clearly visible and audible.

"She is obedient." Titus remarked, convinced the girl was out of earshot.

Gratiana shifted nervously in her chair, tugging her shawl around her shoulders despite the heat. "A happy trait in a daughter."

"And in a wife." Titus said, waving away the goblet of wine Vesta offered the man. He does not drink because he does not wish to compromise his wits to intoxication, Lucretia thought, simultaneously hopeful and fearful.

Gratiana's eyes darted boldly to the man's face before lowering to her lap. "Apologies. We have engaged in pleasantries for some time and yet you have not brought your true intentions to light."

Lucretia's ears burned; the man leisurely picked at a thread in his simple toga for a few agonizing moments before speaking. "My son's marriage is dissolved – I seek remarriage so he may breed grandchildren to carry on the name of Batiatus. Upon discussion, I discovered he rather adamantly insists upon marrying your daughter." Her heart seemed to soar from her chest and she grasped Melitta's hand tightly for support. She was expecting this, thought Melitta, wondering what hand her Domina played in the dissolving of Quintus' marriage and what became of Rufus as a result. The grip turned Melitta's fingertips dark red, but she made no sound.

"With respect… our family is not of such high status and esteem as to deserve such an offer." I would fucking wring your neck, Lucretia fumed, tightening her grip on Melitta's hand. Her strength frightened the girl kneeling at her side.

Titus was as relieved by Gratiana's honesty as Lucretia was incensed by it. "We are in agreement there. Though the honor of Gallus is undisputed when inquiry is made from certain men - as you are aware, your husband was unknown in circles from which I would normally seek counsel - your daughter's lack of assets and family background do cause concern. Yet under my son's insistence, I would supply coin toward your family's celebrations and will require nothing in return." Titus offered the woman a tight smile. "Consider it gift from family."

Gratiana closed her eyes and trembled slightly. "Good Batiatus, you are... most generous."

Titus lowered his voice out of kindness; the woman seemed as though she would faint from fear at any moment. "I assure you of our sincerity. Why are you yet hesitant?"

"Only..." Gratiana suddenly noticed the new drapes in the main hall, as if they eluded her until that very moment. They quivered and beyond the folds, she could see her daughter's face, twisted in beastlike anger. "I fear for my daughter's future in a house so far above her station. I fear she will be... underappreciated." Lucretia's features softened, although faintly.

Titus pondered, resting his chin upon his fist. He then looked at the older woman, her face creased with heavy concern. "When she marries, she will be considered a daughter of the house of Batiatus. A very unusual turn of events caused my son to dissolve his first marriage. He must truly love your daughter, to forsake more promising prospects and risk angering his father to obtain her." Titus stood and brought himself close enough to the brink of pleading to remain upright. "If you do not accept, good Gratiana, I fear I will never see the face of my grandson."

Gratiana looked apprehensively into Lucretia's hiding place and released a heavy sigh, as if unloading her burdensome concerns. "Very well. As Lucretia's mother, I accept this match."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Due to the obvious gap between fortunes, a small wedding was hastily arranged days after Titus and Gratiana's meeting; Lucretia barely had a moment to celebrate her victory. Gratiana did not aid in preparations, but simply slept through the days as Lucretia tended to every detail of the ceremony. She sent word to Gaia, but did not expect her dearest friend to be in attendance. She wondered what sacrifices would be expected of her in her new home and decided she would bear them all to remain at Quintus' side - his devotion now proven unwavering. The day quickly arrived and she sat adorning herself in mostly borrowed ornamentation – good Batiatus honored his words and lent Lucretia jewels and a gown that belonged to his deceased wife.

Lucretia did not mention whether her slave would accompany her to the house of Batiatus; she barely packed a few trinkets from her home the night before. If these are my final hours with Lucretia, Melitta mused, I must gather my courage and make inquiry. She placed a golden garland of tiny jeweled flowers upon the plaits surrounding Lucretia's head and smiled lovingly at her mistress. "Domina?" Lucretia tilted her head toward Melitta and smiled back; over the past two weeks, they barely spoke to one another, all transactions transpired almost wordlessly. "It fills my heart to the brim with joy to see you so uplifted and so very blessed. However, darkness yet looms in my mind… with regards to cherished friend…"

"You speak of Rufus?" Lucretia daintily offered her foot for adornment and Melitta dutifully placed it in her lap. "He was sold, rather suddenly. Mention of this transaction must have slipped from mind. A traveler presented substantial coin for his purchase sometime after the games."

Melitta stared at Lucretia in disbelief, then caught her audacity and lowered her gaze, desperately attempting to secure a gold anklet to Lucretia's foot. "Oh."

Sensing her discomfort, Lucretia placed her hand on the girl's cheek and tilted it upward. Melitta's face was so young, her skin smooth and flush with untainted color, yet her eyes belied her years and seemed so very old. "Do not think I punished the boy. I was attempting to make amends - I sought to grant him freedom for complicity in a dangerous endeavor, but plans failed to come to fruition and a venture turned for the worst. I could not spare him, until this offer was made. The man traveled to Illyria, Melitta. Rufus was overjoyed to return to his homeland." Lucretia, breathing heavily from the exhaustion of lying, raised her eyebrow in subtle accusation. "I had hoped you would rejoice at the thought."

She lies. She lies. Melitta knew her Domina well; her breath became shallow when she fabricated tales - the mannerism grew fainter as Lucretia matured, but Melitta noticed all. She lies. Melitta smiled despite the morbid realization. "Yes... of course I do, Domina. He is blessed." Oh, Rufus. What has she done?

Satisfied, Lucretia turned away from the girl and stood from her place, nearly prepared for presentation. "Now I am weary and would rather not be questioned again. Bring me my ruby comb."

Quintus entered the house of Gallus with his father in splendor – he desperately wanted Lucretia to approve and was able to convince his father to purchase expensive garb for the occasion. Few members of their scattered family and some close friends assembled in the richly decorated main hall. Slaves from Batiatus' stock served the guests. Quintus had hoped to display his father's gladiators for his bride-to-be but space was limited in the small home. Vesta was given no responsibility and the older slave sat with Gratiana, resentfully watching as slaves unknown to her touched the villa she called her own.

Quintus felt a hand firmly grasp his shoulder; Solonius appeared, visibly annoyed. "Solonius! Good to lay eyes!"

Solonius embraced his friend despite his anger. "And at such an event. A month has not passed since Petronia's departure and you chose another wife! That too a woman you claimed was betrothed to another." His voice was strained with accusation.

Quintus furrowed his brow and slung his arm around his friend playfully. "Solonius! Would I intentionally deprive loyal friend of such a jewel… well, while I was yet married? I was misled by another to believe she was betrothed. Of course, after Petronia left, Father pressed for remarriage to provide him with heirs. And I happened to hear that Lucretia's betrothal was a slanderous rumor, spread by a petty shit whose proposal she rejected." Quintus nodded toward Appius, who offered a mocking smile.

Solonius hung his head in thought, and then looked at the weasel-like man with a critical eye. "Appius _is_ a fucking worm." He clapped his arm around "May Juno bless your match. Apologies for doubting your intention."

Quintus touched his friend's head with cautious affection; Solonius was very serious about his well-coiffed hair. "None required, old friend."

A clap of thunder and bright bolt of lightning startled those in attendance and rain suddenly poured freely from an open sky, forming puddles at the base of all of the windows. Just then, the crowd hummed with murmurs. "The bride approaches!"

Lucretia entered the main hall, dressed in the color from Quintus' dreams. Red upon that skin, the fabric so tightly pressed against her sumptuous body, Quintus' thighs tightened at such a vision. Pride radiated from her piercing blue eyes and Quintus felt as if he was not a man until the moment Lucretia beheld him. The ceremony breezed by as they stole glances at each other. Suddenly, the guests erupted in congratulatory cheers. Gratiana lightly embraced her daughter, barely touching the girl's skin. Lucretia did not notice the slight; she could not think from happiness. Quintus met eyes with his wife and his wife looked back at her husband.

The couple was sheltered by an oilcloth awning decorated in religious symbols as they approached the door to leave the house of Gallus when Lucretia suddenly stopped. The guests looked about in confusion as Lucretia stood quietly for a moment and looked at the blank space at her side. Melitta approached, carrying Lucretia's belongings. Lucretia grasped the slave's shoulders. "Where were you?"

Melitta was alarmed by her Domina's crazed demeanor. "I fetched your things to send you on your way, Domina. Are you unwell?"

Lucretia bit her lip and took Melitta's hand, risking the rain slapping against the gold bangles adorning her wrist. "Did you imagine that I would leave this house without you?" She whispered, commencing her exit from the villa.

Melitta was touched by Lucretia's words but fear still quickened her pulse. "I was unsure if you would require my assistance in the company of so many slaves in such a grand home."

"Unsure? Melitta, you are now my only friend." Lucretia sat in the enclosed single-seated palanquin but did not release Melitta's hand. "As I venture into an unknown place, a familiar companion is most welcome."

"As you wish." Melitta replied, her heart sinking. She thought of Rufus, his sweet smile, their youthful mischief and the kiss that still warmed her lips. Rufus was trusted slave and he met an untold, though undoubtedly unfortunate, fate. What will become of me, she thought as she walked to the villa of Batiatus soaking in the rain, if I remain with Domina?

The wedding procession entered the empty villa quietly; the hour was late and Titus was visibly exhausted. "Welcome, Lucretia, to the family of Batiatus. Acquaint yourself with the villa tomorrow; for now, the slaves will escort you to my son's chambers. As tradition dictates, Quintus will enter shortly." Lucretia bowed respectfully, motioning for Melitta to join her. "You." Titus pointed at the slave girl, who froze in her place. "I would have words with you." Lucretia shot a cautionary glance at Melitta as she followed Titus into his chambers.

Melitta never witnessed such splendor - the dark marble glistened, fine drapes laced with gold waved to her from every corner, expensive brassware winked in the low candlelight. Titus lowered himself to his carved wooden bed with difficulty. Melitta instinctively reached out to his aid, though as she assisted him, she feared that she may have overstepped her boundaries.

"Apologies." She whispered, her cheeks dark red with embarrassment.

Titus grinned; the poor girl's face read as clear as water. "None required. Your bold kindness is much appreciated. I hope you will indulge an old man and..." He gestured for a cup of wine; Melitta held the cup to his lips as he drank. The old man's breath rattled, yet he pressed forward with his request. "Boldness in a slave can be a blessing. Especially to a Dominus wary of all whom he welcomes into his home. Your Domina... have I anything to fear from her?"

Melitta knelt at his side and her heart raced. She knew what answer was desirable, the answer her Domina would ask her to give. "Domina is very gracious to me. I have been kept safe from the horrors I hear slaves are forced to endure-"

"Melitta. That is your name?" Melitta nodded and Titus grinned, recognizing the meaning of her name. "Melitta. Honey-sweet. It is in your nature to speak sweet words. But tonight I do not desire comfort. I plead for truth."

Rufus' innocent grin flashed before her eyes, the freckles upon his cheeks and the jest in his eyes. For the first and perhaps last time, Melitta felt rage swell in her chest. Toward her own Domina. "She has always been kind to me, Dominus..." She could not stop the tears pouring down her face and words hesitated upon her lips. Titus touched the girl's cheek with concern; an epiphany seized her mind - this is a good man. "But she cannot be trusted."

Incense was forbidden in the house that night - the air was heavily fragrant with the smell of rain and thick garlands of roses and oleanders hanging in every doorway of the villa. Lucretia stood in his chambers, smelling the air around her with relish. He stood quietly watching her for a moment before entering the room.

Lucretia stared at Quintus and he stared at her from across the room, each hesitant to cross the divide. Finally, Quintus spoke. "Now that you have me, what will you do with me?" He slowly stepped forward.

Lucretia seemed entranced as she walked boldly toward him, starting to unravel her gown, leaving a trail of sashes and petticoats behind until she stood before him. She was completely nude, save her jewelry which glinted against her pink skin in the dimming candlelight. Quintus' mouth hung open, in awe of his wife's beauty; her body was more arousing than he ever imagined. "Touch me."

He pulled her roughly to him, slipping his eager hand between her legs while covering her neck with kisses. She moaned loudly in response and tore away his toga, her nails leaving beaded trails of blood on his skin. He did not possess a muscular body but strength seemed to radiate from every limb, every lean sinew of his form. He pushed her body against a pillar; the cold marble upon her hot skin caused her to shiver. He drew a hardened nipple into his mouth and his teeth caused her to cry out. She yanked his head back by his hair and kissed him violently as he parted her legs and placed his cock underneath her. He looked into her eyes with reluctance - in the past, he fucked virgins for whom he gave no shit and hated the weepy aftermath. "Lucretia."

She pulled him closer by his buttocks and looked him in the eye without fear. "I _want_ you to fuck me, Quintus." Quintus pulled her hips forward and carefully moved inside her. He would not cause her injury if he could help himself. Lucretia gasped, grabbing at him with urgency. "More." She pleaded.

"I love you." He whispered into her ear as he thrust harder and faster into her. She bit his shoulder - the pain she felt in her groin subsided and made way for a pleasure she had never known in her girlhood explorations with Gaia.

"Quintus!" She cried out, moving her hips with his rhythm. "Quintus!" Thunder continued to roar outside and the heavy rain blew into the room, moistening their skin.

He looked at her face and was pleased to see her smiling and laughing in ecstasy. No fear, no reservations, just pure enjoyment. After they climaxed, the newlyweds lay beside each other, slick with sweat and rain. Quintus noticed a streak of red upon her cream-colored thigh. "Did I hurt you?"

She was touched by his concern. "Only to the point of earthshaking climax." She winked and he laughed, drawing her into his arms. She nuzzled his shoulder, trying to hide her tears. "I feared I would never have you, Quintus. I am of... such low birth and I-"

Quintus kissed her to silence her and wiped away her tears. "Sh. I would not hear my wife so maligned. She is the radiance of the moon, the warmth of the sun. She is higher than all those who stand before her. She is the wife of a lanista… and I will see her elevated further."

Lucretia traced his face with her finger, the intense ambition in his eyes warming her entire body. "I swear to aid you in every endeavor." She moved her fingers down his chest and closed her hand around his cock. "But for the moment, I would see my husband rise. Now."

Melitta was instructed by Festia, the overseer of the house, to change out of her wet garments into the garb of Batiatus' slaves. She descended into the stores as directed, found a gown and ran her fingers over the fine fabric, so unlike the plain coarse cloth donned by the slaves in the house of Gallus. Hiding herself behind a shelf of wine, she eagerly pulled the gown over her damp skin. In the complete silence, she paused to lean against the stone wall and wondered what comment Rufus would taunt her with if he saw her in such finery. "A cow dressed in silk is still a cow" or "finally, someone has instructed you in appearing human" or-

"Greetings."

Melitta screamed at the sound, causing Festia to rush to the top of the stairs. The woman could not see Melitta in the darkness. "Have you injured yourself?"

Melitta glared through the bars of the ludus at Gannicus, who held a finger to his lips in a silent plea. "No… a rat appeared." She said with a smirk. "I frightened it away."

"Oh. Dress quickly and then to the quarters with you. You require rest for tomorrow." Festia waddled away, shaking her head and muttering something about stupid young girls.

"Of course, Festia." Melitta shouted, and then waited for the silence to return before reprimanding the gladiator. "Jupiter's cock, you fucking startled me."

Gannicus laughed teasingly, enjoying the curses that fell from such a pretty mouth. "Apologies. I only meant to welcome you to your new home. I had no idea you were a baby rabbit, so easily scared."

Melitta approached the bars defiantly and crossed her arms. "Fear and startle are very different sentiments. I would not expect a clod to understand the distinction."

"Oh, clod am I?" Gannicus remarked, intrigued by the girl's nerve. "You presume to know me so well and you have only just met me."

"Yet the impression is firmly made, Gannicus." She hissed his name, entertained by the exchange.

Gannicus leaned forward, lacing his arms through the ludus' gate. "You know my name?" He asked seductively.

Melitta reddened again from embarrassment; how did I allow the name to slip so freely from tongue? "Difficult to ignore when you are loudly proclaiming your own virtues in the company of guests." She scoffed. He laughed again and she recognized something familiar in his countenance. "You remind me of someone I once cared about… very deeply." She lowered her gaze and readied herself to leave the stores.

"A lover?" Gannicus asked softly, seeing the pain in her eyes briefly before she turned away.

Melitta pondered a moment, considering the question carefully before responding. "A friend. A beloved friend."

Gannicus reached out sympathetically, wanting Melitta's hand. "In honor of this dear friend, may I have permission to offer proper welcome to the house of Batiatus?"

Melitta approached and took his arm, recalling how the men greeted one another. She knew the boy would not have knowledge about the ways of women. The warmth of his forearm against hers caused her to move forward, craving more of his heat. She embraced him through the bars and felt his hands travel hesitantly over her body, as if risking transgression. He cupped her cheek in his hand and kissed her mouth, softly at first then with pressing need. She pushed her face harder into Gannicus, raking her fingers through his long hair, and his rough hands traveled toward her cunt. "Enough." She said, pulling away from the man. He tried to catch his breath to speak but she placed her fingers over his mouth. "Gratitude for the kiss…" she said then turned toward the stairs. She looked at him over her shoulder and he rewarded her with a devilish grin. She smiled back. "You utter fool."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven **

Midday passed and Titus Batiatus returned to his villa in a mood, sulking angrily. Otho, his body slave, quickly took Titus' dusty cloak off his shoulders and offered a cup of cooled water. "Your day has been rather trying, Dominus. I entreat you to rest."

Titus paused to swallow the water in a single gulp. "Lock the weapons in the armory this instant - I would not lay eyes on them lest I vomit in anger." He motioned for more water and leaned against a pillar for support. "That fucking _thief_! I purchase equipment for this ludus solely from him as a matter of loyalty for years of service and he spits in my face by raising the price to double the coin. Double!" Melitta offered water meekly, surprised by the man's anger. Her pretty face softened his scowl, until a thought suddenly thundered into his mind. Three days passed since his son's wedding and he tended to nearly every task in the ludus absent Quintus. "Where is your Domina? And my son?"

Melitta lowered her gaze; she spent her days acquainting herself with the villa and tending to her duties while her Domina slumbered peacefully. "She sleeps, Dominus. She rose this morning after your departure."

"Just for a meal, I'm sure." Titus sneered and stormed into his son's room. "Quintus!"

Lucretia screamed in horror; she was completely naked and sitting on top of her husband nearing climax when her father-in-law barged in. She covered herself with a sheet and hid her face behind Quintus' back. "Apologies, Father!"

Titus averted his gaze in disgust. "Fucking animals! Resting all day, only rising to eat and mate! Clothe yourselves and join me. Presently!" Titus moved aside, allowing Melitta to enter. She rushed to her Domina's side; Lucretia covered her eyes in shame.

Quintus kissed his wife's hands; she would not remove them from her face. "Lucretia... His mood is always tumultuous; he did not intend to injure his new daughter." He embraced her in an attempt to calm her; the tears falling silently from her eyes caused a tremor in his heart. He tilted her head up and kissed her lips gently. "The most beautiful woman in all of Rome."

Lucretia's eyes were blood red, giving her an inhuman quality. "No one has seen me thus, save Melitta and my husband... not even Mother. And I am not accustomed to such… animosity. Oh, Quintus." She fell in her husband's arms and he held her tightly to his chest.

"I will have words with him." Quintus dressed quickly and ran after his father with purpose. Melitta wiped Lucretia's face, but the tears disappeared. Lucretia winked at her slave and, after wrapping herself in a sheet, stood to listen to her husband's conversation.

"What is the meaning of this, Father? _You_ enter our chambers without permission and you scold _Lucretia_?" Quintus asked, incensed by the display.

Titus faced his son and poked his bony finger into the boy's chest. "_You_ spend your days eating and fucking, expecting me to hold this ludus together and dare to ask me-"

Quintus shrugged his father away, balling his fists in an attempt to curtail his rage. "She is my wife. My _wife_! I am your son and I allow you to take such tones with me, but she is a newly wed bride. She is of a gentler disposition, Father." Titus considered his son's words for a moment – Lucretia was a new bride and a woman. Would he treat her so harshly? Perhaps not, if she was as delicate as his son claimed.

"Was she a virgin?"

Quintus frowned in disgust, looking at his father as if he were covered in shit. "How can you ask this?"

Titus ignored his son's indignation. "Melitta! Bring me your Domina's sheets."

Melitta squeezed her Domina's hand, then presented the white sheet to Titus, who inspected at the red blotches with a skeptical eye. "Very well. Prepare Lucretia for a late midday meal. As I have worked through the day and she has slept through it."

She nodded and hastened to assist Domina with her clothing. Lucretia fumed as she dressed, pulling her sandals on violently. "Fucking ass! Attacking my virtue! That shit-eating old goat!" She spat, muttering curses under her breath.

Melitta stroked Lucretia's hair into place coaxingly. "Patience, Domina. He will soon witness all of your positive attributes and he will love you for them... as we all do." She felt a twinge of guilt, remembering her response to Titus. Surely he does not slight Domina for those words alone?

Lucretia attempted a weak smile, looking in the glass with approval. "Gratitude, Melitta. I could not function without your hand steady upon my back. Pressing me forward." She stood and bravely walked into the main hall to meet her new family, Melitta following close behind.

"Be seated." Titus ordered and Lucretia obeyed, though the act stung her heart. "If I spoke too harshly, I apologize. I am unaccustomed to you and you are unaccustomed to me. Perhaps, after some time, we will become... acclimated to each other." Titus' words would bring comfort if they were not barbed with thorny contempt.

Lucretia bowed her head, the portrait of contriteness. "You shame me, Father. It is I who should be deeply apologetic. My devotion to my husband caused me to neglect my duties as daughter-in-law." Quintus was impressed with her display – a lioness in his bed and a lamb in his dining hall. Titus simply nodded and began to eat. Lucretia respectfully waited before taking a bite of food.

Doctore entered the main hall, lowering his head in respect to the family Batiatus. "Greetings to our radiant Domina."

Quintus introduced the man, proud to finally show off his wares to his new bride. "Lucretia, this is Doctore of our ludus. A fierce, unparalleled gladiator in his time, he now leads our men to victory."

Lucretia smiled brilliantly at the man and he was instantly charmed. "A great Doctore, to train such skilled gladiators."

He was distracted a moment by the woman's kindness, then refocused lest he forget the task at hand. "Apologies for the interruption, Dominus. Oenomaus requests audience this day." Melitta's hands trembled as she poured wine. With Gannicus, his soft blonde hair, firm warm body and joyful grin constantly upon her mind since their stolen kiss, Melitta had given no thought to the strong gladiator she so revered and recalled that he too was under this very roof.

"Bring him now as we feast. I would spend the remainder of the day in my office surveying finances, and would avoid disturbance." Melitta plied the family with water, wine and food, trying to mask her anticipation. The man was at once a fierce beast and at another moment a gentleman – a marvel to a girl unexposed to the world. As he entered the hall with a measured grace, she stole a quick glance - he donned simple subligaria, a sight that brought a blush to her cheeks. "Ah, Oenomaus. What purpose sees us blessed with the company of the Champion of Capua?"

Oenomaus looked around the room nervously, especially at Quintus and his new bride as they fed each other bites of food, whispering and laughing at some intimate secret only lovers share. "Dominus... it is a matter... I would speak to you alone. If possible."

Lucretia smiled slyly. "Do you not trust us, Oenomaus?" Titus chuckled; he allowed himself to admit his daughter-in-law was rather engaging.

Oenomaus lowered eyes with a smile. "Of course not, Domina. A slave is loyal to the entire house he serves. The matter is delicate in nature..." When no one spoke of allowing a private audience, Oenomaus' conscience pressed him to speak. "I request a wife. If I am elevated to a position worthy of such a gift." Lucretia emitted a gasp of delight; he prayed for such a reaction. If Quintus could remarry after such betrayal, perhaps marriage itself was not so ill-fated. Quintus seemed so happy by Lucretia's side, so renewed by the love of a woman. Oenomaus burned with envy, watching Quintus kiss his new bride's hand.

Titus nodded in agreement. "Indeed you are. Our greatest gladiator, towering above all others in skill and might. Is there a particular woman you would take as wife?"

Oenomaus shrugged, startled by the suggestion. How could he make choice when, as a slave, every choice since birth was made for him? "With respect, I would leave decision in Dominus' hands."

"If I am permitted..." Lucretia interjected, sensing an opportunity to make amends with Titus; her trespass would easily fade from memory if replaced with the jubilation of a wedding. "I would offer my body slave, Melitta, a perfect match for a gladiator of such unmatched quality." Titus looked surprised, yet pleased at the request. "She is quite pretty and I keep her untouched by men in anticipation of such opportunity."

"Your gift is appreciated, Lucretia." Lucretia felt empowered by the softness in his tone; Quintus reached out and held her hand in support. Titus turned to the gladiator just as Oenomaus quickly looked up at the blushing Melitta. "Oenomaus, do you have objection?"

Oenomaus thought of Melitta often after their small encounters; he admired her form and her composure but could never dream of possessing her; he thought the girl was far above his station. And she is unsullied? The thought excited and scared him; he feared that his brutish demeanor would offend the delicateness of an untouched woman. "I... I would be honored by such an auspicious match. To bless me as my master has been blessed." He lifted his gaze, noticing the tremble in her chin. "Will she have me?"

Lucretia scoffed, amused by the man's question. "Of course she will. Won't you?" The focus of the room fell suddenly upon Melitta, a position unfamiliar to a body slave trained to remain inconspicuous. Domina fulfilled her promise - gifting her chastity to an honorable man. She would not be used for the amusement of many but would find opportunity for love with one. Melitta knew choice would be removed when the time came for her deflowering. Still, she felt hesitation. A sadness that while she was not treated as harshly as other slaves under her Domina, she made no choices of her own and she was not free. Melitta nodded slightly; she dare not look at the man. Lucretia touched the girl's cheek approvingly. "It is done."

Titus stood and put his arm around the gladiator's shoulders with pride. Lucretia saw the envy in Quintus' eyes and felt a surge of anger that her husband should be so wanting of his father's love that he would envy a slave. "I will perform the ceremony myself this evening. Doctore, prepare this ludus for a wedding!"

The festivities were attended only by the household, as a slave's marriage held little consequence to the world outside villa walls. The house was sparingly decorated, but the slaves were indulged - richly adorned female slaves brought Melitta to the square and seated her behind an ornate veil. The men wore shining armor and each brandished a wood gladius inlayed with copper that shimmered silver in the moonlight, then bright orange when catching the lanterns' flames. The gladiators were well-plied with wine and made quiet, lewd comments to the groom, but Gannicus remained sober. He could barely see the outline of her face, but he knew who sat in waiting for Oenomaus. He clapped his hand on his friend's arm with feigned enthusiasm, whispering his congratulations in the man's ear. Gannicus felt joy for Oenomaus' much-awaited reward, yet memory of the kiss he shared with Melitta haunted him. He hoped to advance their interaction with more exploration when opportunity presented, perhaps bribe a guard for access beyond the ludus gate. But there she sat, so close to him but placed so far, glancing up only to look upon the face of the great Oenomaus.

Titus spoke warmly to the couple, invoking the gods to bless their union with the pleasure of companionship. Quintus released a deep sigh; his father was not so pleased on the day of his marriage to Lucretia. Still, he harbored respect for Oenomaus – a sort of friendship flourished past jealousy, past station. When the ceremony concluded, Quintus embraced Oenomaus for the first time since their childhood. The slave was moved to wet eyes and dropped his head with respect. "Dominus."

Titus followed suit, taking the man into his arms. He turned to his men and lifted his hand joined with Oenomaus' hand into the air; the men roared with cheers. "Let the festivities begin!" With those words, the flesh-peddler Marcellus ushered in dancers, while the female slaves brought more wine. It was a rare occasion when the men could fraternize with the women of the household and Gannicus took full advantage, reveling with as many as he could stand. Women always took to his easy smile, his flirtatious words and his handsome looks - he would employ his charms and use women to obscure the one face that stuck in his mind.

Lucretia and Quintus were given the honor of escorting the newlyweds to their bedchamber; Titus was spent by the day and retired to his chambers. Lucretia ducked into the entryway to prepare Melitta for her duties. "Are you nervous?" She asked as she reclaimed the jewels adorning the new bride. Melitta shook her head, then immediately nodded with a grin. Lucretia removed the layers of the bride's dress, leaving Melitta dressed in a simple, translucent undergarment. She glanced over Melitta's form, nodding with appreciation before kissing the girl's forehead. "Oenomaus seems to me a very honorable man. You trust me, don't you?"

The question struck Melitta like a stinging whip upon her back. "With my life, Domina."

Quintus patted his slave upon his back as they awaited the preparation of the bride. "In honor of your wedding, you will be permitted to have your wife for five full nights. After the days pass, she will be brought to you for one night every week."

Oenomaus turned to Quintus with thanks spreading his face into a smile. "Gratitude, Dominus." Quintus smiled back and jabbed the man in the stomach playfully.

Lucretia emerged and held the door open for Oenomaus, motioning him into the room with this order: "Be gentle with her, good Oenomaus. She is unaccustomed to a rough touch."

Oenomaus stepped into the room and the door slammed shut. The sounds of celebration were muffled; the silence between them was palpable. The sight of her tightened his every muscle – warmly colored skin in the flickering candlelight, the curves of her hips, the swell of her breasts. She sat with her arms locked at her sides and he detected a slight tremble travel through her. "Do not be frightened." He knelt before her and smiled. "Wine?" She smiled back and nodded; her face was so friendly, so open, that he forgot she sat before him nearly naked; he calmed himself – years and years lay ahead of them and there was plenty of time for fucking. He poured two cups of the expensive wine Titus gifted them and handed one to her. "I have always thought it a barbaric custom, to expect husband and wife who have never shared words or joined minds to share a bed the first night of marriage."

Melitta nodded in appreciation and sipped the wine timidly. "All slaves are thus matched."

"_Animals_ are thus bred. Are you comfortable?" Oenomaus placed a pillow behind her back and she was able to lean comfortably against the wall. "Better, isn't it? How else can I be of service?" He stood and bowed before her, causing her to burst out in giggles.

She looked upon her husband's face thoughtfully, watching the light dance on the creases as he smiled. "I would have you make introduction that was lacking when we first laid eyes. I would know this man I call husband."

Oenomaus was soothed by her ease of conversation, so he prepared his bed upon the floor and laid back upon his pillow, stretching his long, lean body. Melitta tried to resist staring at the deep valleys and peaks along his muscles, ripples down his abdomen leading to a flimsy subligaria, hinting toward the mystery below. She crossed her legs and closed her eyes, eager to focus upon his words. "Very well. I am Oenomaus. I was bought by Batiatus from an Egyptian merchant when I was barely able to walk. I have no recollection of my family or my home; Dominus claims I hail from Axum. His wife, Albinia, took pity on me, an orphaned child emaciated by neglect. I worked as soon as I was able, but only small tasks - fetching water or wine, keeping the younger Batiatus occupied. When I showed promise in strength, Titus put me to task - training as a gladiator. Some victories later, I sit before you, by the Grace of the Gods, Champion of this ludus."

Melitta curled her knees to her chin, a look of wonder in her dampened eyes. "More." She whispered.

Oenomaus awoke to the sound of a cracking whip and the thud of wood against wood outside his door. His cot was empty; Melitta must have slipped away in the early hours to prepare for the day. He opened the door to his room and winced in the bright morning light.

"Ah, the beast emerges, another victory for Oenomaus!" Barca exclaimed, and the men hooted, patting the man's shoulder and smiling. "I trust the night was well-spent, brother."

Oenomaus smiled and lifted a wooden gladius. "Care to take measure, brother?" He knocked the wooden blade against Barca's, and the men were engaged.

Gannicus watched Oenomaus battle the towering Carthaginian, laughing and leaping with renewed agility. Being married to Melitta truly makes a man, he mused, feeling the slightest twinge of jealousy. He quickly banished the feeling, giving way to shame. This man was his brother, the man who forged him into the fierce gladiator he became in this ludus. Could he covet that which rightfully belonged to Oenomaus? Plagued with self-contempt, he thrust himself into his training, pushing memories of Melitta's touch from his mind.

Lucretia held audience with Capua's finest clothier, eying brilliantly colored bolts of cloth. She pledged to fill her days with various appointments - sommelier in the morning, clothier this afternoon and tomorrow, a trip to the market for food. She attempted to mask her amazement, closely examining the gilded borders of a deep blue drape. "Melitta, hold this up against the wall."

Melitta stifled a yawn as she obeyed; Festia plied her with a waking elixir and yet she felt the exhaustion of the previous night. Lucretia knowingly winked at her slave and Melitta attempted to smile back.

"Domina, this color suits your quarters perfectly! Shall I wrap this for you?" The clothier exclaimed, beckoning his slave for twine.

"A moment, a moment!" Lucretia snapped, tilting her head slightly. "No, I require a softer blue. A hint of grey. In a finer fabric." She tossed the cloth at the man and fanned herself anxiously. "Fuck, this heat." Melitta offered Lucretia a drink of water. "Has it been this hot for days?"

"The day cooled by the time you would rise, Domina. Today's industriousness causes you to swelter." Melitta replied teasingly.

"Ah, yes! The insufferable duties of a woman of position." Lucretia joked back, then froze. She tapped the clothier's shoulder insistently. "Stop! That one!"

Quintus and Titus returned from the market that evening, each walking straight into their chambers without a word to Lucretia. She hurried after her husband and approached him with cautious concern. She placed a hand upon her husband's cheek; the flesh burned against her skin. "Are you unwell, Quintus?"

He took her hand and kissed it, holding her cool fingertips to his face. "Father scolded me, right in the middle of the fucking market."

Lucretia's eyes widened in indignation; the thought of her Apollo-like husband chided in a crowded place like a child incensed her beyond reason. "Upon what grounds?"

"Spending, among many other things." Quintus withdrew a pouch from the folds of his robe, sheepishly presenting it to his wife. "Yet he would not keep me from my desires. For you."

Lucretia tore open the pouch; a golden necklace flecked with brilliant precious stones - emerald, ruby, sapphire - winked at her from her palm. The exquisite gift brought a tear to her eye. "Oh, Quintus. To brave your father's wrath for this..." Melitta approached and slipped the gift around Lucretia's neck. Lucretia admired it a moment, deeply touched by his gesture, then leapt to her feet. "Stand here a moment." Lucretia grasped Quintus' shoulders and stood him at the window. She looked at his face, then at the new curtains swaying in the breeze. "Yes. It is perfect. Did I not tell you, Melitta?"

Melitta smiled, enjoying her Domina's delight. "Wonderful selection, Domina."

Quintus looked quizzically at Lucretia, who blushed as she replied. "The curtains. They match your eyes."

Quintus noticed the curtains and his heart seized in his chest. No one since his mother's death lavished as much attention on him as Lucretia. Every moment since they joined in marriage was a blessing from the gods, her every encouragement bolstering his confidence and raising him to the heavens. He ran his fingers along the fine silver borders of the pale blue fabric; they seemed dipped in moonlight. "You honor me, Lucretia." He placed his wife's forehead against his, catching the rhythm of her breath and making it his own. "In the history of the world, has a man ever been so blessed? The lash of harsh words softened by your devotion."

She pulled him closer, relishing the feel of his hands upon her body. She brought her mouth to his ear and whispered. "Would that they were never inflicted."


	12. Chapter 12

**_Sorry if this chapter seems rushed – I'm leaving for the airport in 15 minutes! I'll be back in two weeks with a new fanfiction to tantalize you all! Subscribe and please review! Thanks!_**

**Chapter Twelve**

The ludus slept soundly; the only noise wafting to Melitta's ears was the voice of her husband, describing victory against Nonus, the first man he ever faced in the arena. He never felt such abandon with words; among his gladiator brothers, he would sit and listen, offering few comments to command attention. Melitta seemed enthralled by every word, peering at him with curious eyes. She wants to know me, he thought, emotions and observations pouring from his mouth. They sat opposite each other on his cot, sipping wine and sharing a bowl of olives with a comfortable ease. Their third night passed quickly in conversation and laughter as the preceding nights - Melitta found Oenomaus as a child, shy yet eager to speak, dealing his emotions and morals in absolutes. She rested her cheek upon her hand and stifled a yawn.

"It seems I am boring you half to death, aren't I?" Oenomaus asked with a snicker.

Melitta laughed, a sound that Oenomaus grew to crave as he toiled in training, and batted his arm. "No! Domina tends to her duties with a renewed force; the day was trying. You are engaging, Oenomaus. Blessed with a pleasing voice."

He smiled and pulled the blanket over their legs to fend off the night's chill. "You have a voice that would coax Jupiter from his perch. Enough of my prattle. You have told me nothing of yourself."

Melitta nodded as she drank; the wine begged her sleep but Oenomaus made the first request of his wife and she would not deny him. "My life lacks excitement compared to your storied history. I was bought for my Domina, much like you were for young Batiatus… I recall my mother. A Lusitanian slave in the home of a Roman senator. I think I resemble her... she was more beautiful." Melitta closed her eyes as she spoke, summoning a hazy portrait of the woman who gave her life. Oenomaus touched her arm softly, urging her to continue. "I do not know the reason, but I was taken from her arms as a girl and sold to Gallus. We traveled often, until permanent residence was established in Tarracina. We lived there many years in a quiet, uneventful existence. After good Gallus passed, Domina insisted we return toCapua." She smiled at Oenomaus, attempting to mask the pain from resurfacing wounds long forgotten; she decided against sharing her friendship with Rufus. That pain she kept hidden, sometimes even from herself. "And here I am."

Oenomaus smiled back sympathetically. "I have heard of Tarracina's beauty. Do you prefer it toCapua?"

She thought of all the marvelous and terrible things she witnessed since her return – losing a friend, gaining a husband. "Tarracina was pleasant, but... dull." Her body heaved from physical and emotional exhaustion, and she looked pleadingly at Oenomaus. "I would share more, but-"

"Say nothing; you speak with eyes half closed!" They shared another laugh of many as he unrolled his pallet and settled in to catch the few hours of sleep remaining. He looked over at Melitta, who rolled over to face him with a shy smile. "Good night... my wife."

The words warmed her and she blushed, still embarrassed by the kind attention. "Good night, husband."

Melitta's mind wandered constantly to thoughts of Oenomaus as she stood by Lucretia, who tirelessly wrote invitations to women associated with her new home. Father instructed her to learn proper decorum from these older, complacent women. She hoped to aid the ludus in her meetings, despite Titus' strict instructions to the contrary – "Men dealt in business, women the home".

A young slave whose name yet escaped Melitta entered the room timidly. "Domina, you have a visitor."

Lucretia quickly smoothed her dress and glanced around the slave to see her guest. "Who... Mother! Oh, Mother!" Lucretia threw her arms around her mother, surprised at her own exuberance. "How I have missed you!" The truth of her words shook her bones; despite the ill will her mother seemed to bear toward her, Lucretia yet loved her.

"And I, you, my child." Gratiana kissed her daughter's cheek with a tight mouth. "Melitta... how do you fare in your new home?"

Lucretia ignored the coldness and presented Melitta to her mother proudly. "She is newly married, Mother. Gifted to the champion Oenomaus." Lucretia smiled, hoping to elicit a pleasing response from Gratiana.

Gratiana ran her hand over the girl's head in a benevolent gesture. "My blessings. Bring some wine, will you? To celebrate." Melitta ducked her head and happily exited the room, glad to avoid witnessing any friction between the two women of Gallus. "I come bearing news. I leave for Tarracina."

Lucretia crossed her arms in an attempt to control the tumult of emotions so suddenly aroused. Leaving? "When?"

Gratiana edged closer to the door, sensing Lucretia's change in emotion. "This very night. I have convinced Marcella to join me, promising bored virile young men and rich widowers for her sport." Gratiana put on an air of annoyance, as if the conversation was hindering her busy schedule.

Lucretia moved toward her mother, her face contorted by disappointment and anger. "But why now? Why so soon?" She grasped her mother's arm desperately. "While I ensconce myself inCapua, why do you leave me?"

Gratiana shrugged off her daughter's hand; she dreaded the strength of Lucretia's touch. "Because I fear you, Lucretia. I am afraid of you. A mother should not fear her child and yet your very presence threatens my life."

Lucretia softened her expression, reaching her arms out to her mother for an embrace. "You have nothing to fear from me, Mother. I have achieved my goal-"

"Until when?" Gratiana snapped, pushing Lucretia away. "Until the next goal presents itself? Your hands are forever stretched to the sky while your feet are fixed on the lowly ground. You will always want more and will never achieve satisfaction. And if I witness your schemes, then I am as culpable as you are." Gratiana gathered herself, breathing deeply. "I should leave. Here." She turned abruptly on her heel after tossing a small sack at her daughter. Lucretia rushed after Gratiana.

"Mother, wait!" She pleaded, loathe to part from another woman upon whom she could depend.

Gratiana paused, but did not turn to look upon her daughter's face. In her confusion, Lucretia dropped the bag, spilling her mother's collection of adornments. "Strangest thing the Gods have ever placed in the bosom of a woman... Even through all this shit, my Lucretia, I have always loved you." She walked away, a pool of jewels forming at Lucretia's feet.

Melitta looked upon the different seals, wondering which meant what, when her eyes fell upon a jug of Dominus' honeyed wine. She glanced about, and, seeing no one, tipped the jug to her lips when a rustle beyond the bars of the ludus made her jump. "You have a bad habit of startling me; I nearly dropped the jug!"

Gannicus smirked and her anger disappeared. How can one man's charisma have such an effect? "Having a taste, are you? Care to share?"

Melitta returned the expression and relaxed her demeanor. "No! I should replace it; the wine was bought especially for Dominus and any missing drops will be noticed. However…" She lifted another jug, one with a recurring label, and quickly took a sip.

"Spare me a few!" Gannicus demanded with a laugh, and when she handed him the wine, their fingers brushed.

Melitta's cheeks grew red and she quickly withdrew her hand. "Gannicus, about-"

"Oh, it is cast from mind." Gannicus said, waving his hand dismissively. "The folly of youth."

Melitta looked at his jovial face closely. "So easily?"

His smile disappeared and he lowered his gaze. "No... With much difficulty." Her heart ached at his response, to see a man so beautiful exhibit such torment. "Oenomaus is a good man. He is the best man I know."

"I know of his value." She said, sitting upon a shelf, momentarily forgetting her duties. She had no one else in the world to share her thoughts. "Then why do I yet hesitate?"

Gannicus sympathized with the girl, though he usually suppressed his frustration with life as a slave but in moment such as this, the realization had an acrid taste. "Oenomaus never says or does anything if not completely sincere. He will be a good husband… and is deserving of a good wife." The moment he spoke the words, he realized the unquestionable truth – Oenomaus was deserving of Melitta. _He_ was not.

Melitta took the jug from Gannicus' hands, careful not to touch his skin. He spoke the truth, she admitted to herself. Oenomaus deserved a wife who will return his love and his honesty. She said a quick prayer to the Gods for the ability to be that woman. She looked at Gannicus, feeling yet a twinge of longing for the man. "Where are we, then?"

Gannicus laughed and shook his head, the movements seeming forced and rehearsed. "Melitta, I am a man of many tastes! I could never…" The façade proved too much to bear and his face shrunk to a small smile. "This man I remind you of… Your friend. Did you love him?"

Melitta smiled back, substituting the bitter longing in her heart with a sweet fondness, an emotion she reserved for her copper-haired Rufus. "Yes. As a friend."

He offered his hand through the bars, seeing Melitta for the first time as only Oenomaus' wife. "Then may I be deserving of such love?"

Melitta tried to hide a smile as she turned away and started back up the stairs. "No!"

Melitta ran into the main hall with the wine, but Domina and her mother were absent. She walked into Lucretia's chambers, searching for her Domina. Lucretia sat at the looking glass, wiping tears from her face. "Domina?" Melitta whispered, approaching the woman with caution.

"What took you so fucking long?" Lucretia snapped, attempting to compose herself. She stifled a sob in her handkerchief as Melitta knelt by her side. "My mother is gone… Gaia is gone… who can I depend on now? Who can I turn to with my troubles?"

Melitta offered her Domina a sip of wine, which Lucretia took greedily. "If I may speak freely… Dominus loves you and it seems he would do anything to please you. Perhaps you can depend on him?"

Lucretia smiled at the girl's naïveté and placed a hand on her cheek. "Oh, Melitta. You should share your thoughts with your husband, but not all of them. Never divulge all of them. A man can never grasp the depths of a woman's heart. Remember that." The words went straight into Melitta; she would never speak of her feelings for Rufus or Gannicus. Those memories would remain locked inside her until the day she died; even then, she prayed the Gods would forever wipe them away, leaving a clean and untarnished soul. "At least I have you, Melitta. My heart is restored." Melitta smiled at her Domina, who stood from her place with purpose. "Prepare me for evening meal and go to the ludus; I would reward your kind words with more time with your husband." Lucretia winked. "Spend your moments wisely."

Oenomaus returned to his cell freshly bathed after a day of difficult training; Doctore seemed to work the men to the bone to compensate for their carefree days of wedding celebrations. He was surprised to find his wife sitting pensively upon his cot. "Melitta! What good fortune. Uff, the day I've had…"

She watched him pour two cups of wine, a practiced gesture that began their nightlong discussions. He offered her a cup with an open smile, and she heard Gannicus' words in her head. The best man I know. She could not move for fear of disappointing her husband; I am imperfect. Her flaws could cause him discomfort or disgust; she could not bear his hatred.

"Melitta?" Oenomaus asked with concern. Despite the tension in her limbs, she stood and walked toward him, placing her arms around his neck. She put her head upon his shoulder; he was frozen by her sudden embrace, cups still in hand.

"Can I not inspire you to move?" She asked, lifting her face to meet his eyes. He looked into her beautiful face and tossed the cups aside, the earthenware shattering against the floor as he hugged her tightly, consuming her mouth. He trailed kisses along her neck and shoulders then lifted her to his cot. He laid her down and as he continued to kiss her, she quickly shrugged off her dress.

"Melitta… are you certain you are ready?" He asked, surprised by her lust. He distracted himself from the sight of the curves of her naked body; if she refused him, he would force himself to pull away.

"Oenomaus… our entire lives stretch before us. We have years to explore each other's hearts." She fumbled at his subligaria, unfamiliar as she was with the garment. "I want now, more than anything, to see satisfaction upon my husband's face." She ran her hands over his body, still slick from the baths. Her touch quickened his breath, yet he still hovered above her in hesitation. "I want to please you."

Oenomaus needed no further persuasion; he ran his hands over her body and kissed her to the point of bruising. She groaned with excitement. He pulled her hips toward him and slid slowly into her. She gasped in pain and he withdrew; the sound alarmed him. Oenomaus lifted her above him and carefully placed her legs around his hips. "Slowly… just as much as you can bear." He instructed, relishing the sight of her body from the new angle. She obeyed, lowering herself on top of him until the pain returned, then pulling back. Slowly, she allowed him deeper and deeper inside her; he held her waist and she could feel his hands tense with pleasure when she moved.

She whispered his name, looking down upon her husband. He looked up at her with such love; she felt as if she owned the world. She quickened her rhythm, relishing the changes in his face. She cried out, this time in ecstasy, and he moaned in response.

Later, she watched him slumber; his features softened as he quietly snored. She turned and placed his arm around her. He fits, she realized. Inside me and around me. We fit. She felt content for the first time in her life; she felt as if she belonged in Oenomaus' arms. And yet, from some hidden corner of her mind, she wondered where Gannicus was.

"Quintus!"

The sound of Titus' voice boomed through the villa and Lucretia watched with lament as her husband rushed to answer his father's call. She hated how Quintus became so small in front of Titus, when the man should tower over the Gods. Titus presented his son with papers, thrusting them into the man's chest. "Your wife squanders coin as if possessed by Mercury. Drapes, clothes, invitations for meals. How will we maintain this ludus with such expenditure?"

Lucretia stepped in to Quintus' defense, quelling her hatred for Titus with words. "Apologies, Father. I only presumed to assume my duties and provide my new home with adornment worthy of its stature; I may have overstepped."

Titus took a deep breath to control his temper, remembering the fact that though this woman was not of his choosing, she was still a lady of the house of Batiatus. "Lucretia, you must understand the limitations of this house. We cannot afford such extravagance. Even as we are graced with the Gods' favor." Quintus looked up in anticipation. "Tullis arrives fromRomeand wishes to survey the ludi ofCapua. We must show this ludus offers more than one great gladiator." He smiled teasingly at Melitta, who seemed to glow with happiness at the mention of her husband's accomplishment. "No matter how exalted the man may be!"

Quintus seized opportunity; his father allowed him to choose new recruits one year ago and yet none of his men were offered prominence in the games when the ludus was employed. "What of the new men? Martinus? Nerva?" He mentioned nonchalantly before finally offering the man he truly deemed worthy. "Gannicus?"

"Gannicus?" Titus pondered and motioned to one of the guards. "Allow me examination and I will form my decision."

The guards brought Gannicus to the main hall; he seemed as if he barely slept the night before. Melitta pitied him as Titus scrutinized his every sinew. "Hm… The man is puny, weak thighs and tired eyes. I truly hope this was a jest, Quintus." Titus tapped Gannicus' shoulders to test their strength; Gannicus could barely hold himself upright. "Your judgment cannot be so flawed. We will present Barca. He is of an impressive form. Melitta, see Gannicus back to the ludus." Titus sneered dismissively at the man as Melitta led him away. She wanted to see her new friend cheered, so she decided to mock him – Rufus always responded to her teasing with laughter.

"Oh, poor, poor Gannicus. Weak thighs?" She looked down at his legs with feigned pity.

"Ha! Every female slave in this ludus would beg to differ." Gannicus said defiantly, puffing his chest forward with pride. He knew why she teased and was grateful for the distraction.

"If that is so, then why do all beg to never return to them?" Melitta responded with an arched brow as she pushed him slightly through the bars.

Gannicus heard unfamiliar bounding laughter from inside the ludus; he never heard Oenomaus laugh so openly. "Oenomaus, do you hear how your wife ridicules me?"

The man approached and leaned against the bars; Melitta leaned on him, their shoulders touching in a united front. "I applaud her. Someone should, lest your lofty opinion of yourself carry you into the wind!"

Gannicus rolled his eyes but thought to himself: perhaps this friendship can be borne. Perhaps that brief shared moment was just foolish youth. "I would prefer enemies to such friends!" He yelled as he walked away, happily defeated. Melitta stole a quick kiss from Oenomaus, looking back at him tenderly before hurrying back to the villa.

Lucretia fumed in silence as Titus reprimanded his son, who assumed his usual position: fists clenched, eyes lowered, jaw tight. "Quintus, I instruct and instruct you, yet you still defy me and veer off course with your own ambitions and to your own detriment. You do not possess the ability to properly handle a mature situation and must be schooled until such time that you are capable of handling this ludus." When Quintus did not respond, Lucretia spoke up, her heart aching for the man she loved. Even with Petronia gone, the man's potential remained stifled.

"Of course Father is correct; he has years of experience as a lanista and must be held as example. But, Father." Lucretia said, placing her hands on the man's shoulders and easing him onto a chaise. He mumbled futile protest but allowed her the kind gesture. "Have you not strained under such demands?" She sat beside him, offering him a cool wet washcloth to wipe his face. Quintus watched on in amazement as his wife dismissed the gladiators in one motion and called to another slave with the next. "You should recover your strength, Father. Melitta." Lucretia beckoned and displayed a dazzling smile to her family - one of dutiful wife and respectful daughter-in-law, a smile untainted by past tragedies and abandonment, a smile full of dreams and hopes for a bountiful life of infinite possibilities. "Fetch the honeyed wine."


End file.
